Using the Force

For years, praying was exercise. Through the brute force of my intentions, my prayers attempted a form of telekinesis to align all factors to end with the best outcome, sometimes for others, but mostly for me. 

Help me get to school on time with green lights only.

Make the phone ring to distract my mother from lecturing me.

Only a nod to altruism was the virtuous request that my entire lunch table get a homecoming date, so that we could attend the dance together.

As the universe delivered her gifts, sometimes granting, and sometimes not, I collected data on what might be possible. My conversations with God might have sounded like a honey-do list, but I wasn’t spoiled by my guardian angel. I didn’t even achieve the omnipotent power I craved, but these prayers served a role in time. 

Through conversations with God, I grew more aware of myself. There I was, making my worries known, if only in the echo chamber of my mind. Whether or not my prayers were heard by a higher being, I was the essential witness, wasn’t I?

Prayers, for some, are meant to be a dialogue, but it’s when I started paying attention to my inner monologue that things started to change.

Many Happy Returns

Birthdays are a celebration worthy of toasts and singing. Festivities should cancel out any angst around aging, an unpopular reality in some circles. Approaching 50, I've only felt pride for my half-century of life. I'm a regular Sally O'Malley of my household anyway, high-kicking and stretching all year, because why not.

On the subject of prayer, mine is one of gratitude. Despite the trials of last year, there were also triumphs. As I finish this lap around the sun, I declare victory. 

Optimism, like a birthday, is hopefulness and confidence about the future, so I'll close this post with a prayer for what's to come. When I blow out the candles tonight, my wish will be for tomorrow. 

Dear God, It's Me, Optimism

I grew up praying with my family. Not just on Sundays, led by Father on the altar. Heads bowed, speaking in unison, sometimes we held hands, and often it was to express gratitude. We'd say thanks to God for our blessings before lifting our forks. Before opening presents on Christmas morning, we stopped at the door of our living room to sing "Happy Birthday" to baby Jesus and say "Hail Mary" for his mother's labor and sacrifice. But the type of prayer I've been pondering lately is the wishful kind. Sometimes the rosary beads directed the program in our household, but not often. Our intentions ranged from the mundane to the medical. 

Dear God, 

Please watch over Grandma in her illness and Cousin, who is going through a tough time. Plus, could you give an upcoming test or quiz your loving attention? By the way, we will drive 10 hours on Saturday, and we ask that you protect us from harm on the road. May we treat each other with kindness no matter the conditions that make us cranky along the way. 

           In your name we pray,

           The Grahams

Our prayers were answered in the daffodils that bloomed in the medians and the short gas line we found at the I-95-rest stop. When my baby sister sang the lines of her favorite songs from her carseat, my Mother nodded to the angels with more tracking power than a GPS. Simple gifts from the universe propagated further prayers. The more we prayed, the more we appreciated the blue sky overhead. I found a $5 on the sidewalk back to the car, proving that God is good.

Optimism, like prayer, is the belief in a successful outcome of things. I mention this because my students are about to enter an annual speech contest and this year's prompt is: How to change the world with optimism. 

To believe in goodness requires faith. It is a force that exists beyond car trouble and a runny nose. You nose might burn with the threat of a nasty cold. You're on your way to work, and the engine light will eventually turn on. We will all someday receive a call that Grandma's prognosis is not going to improve. But there was a sale on Kleenex tissues today of all days. If prayer didn't conjure the mechanic that fixed your car, what did? Grandma recommended some study strategies for you on her last phone call, thank God.

Optimism challenges us to see goodness despite disappointments. The results of my family's celestial invocations seemed to revolve in a small orbit with little to do with rest of the universe.

Unless there was more to it. This is a theory I'll try out in the coming days.