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emily p. freeman

Creating space for your soul to breathe so you can discern your next right thing.

What to Do When You Can’t Find Words To Pray

“Prayer is standing in the presence of God with the mind and the heart. That is, at the point of our being where there are no divisions or distinctions, and where we are totally one. There, God’s spirit dwells, and there, the great encounter takes place.”

Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart.

*This post has references to the events of September 11, 2001.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I drove to work the same way I had every other morning, listening to Bob and Sheri on the radio. As always, they told jokes and funny stories between songs, and I rolled down the driver’s side window to enjoy the cool September morning air, as I pulled into the parking lot early at 8:45 AM.

I sat outside in my car, in that parking lot of the college where I was working as a sign language interpreter. I was happily reflecting on the past few months. John and I had been married nearly three months at that point, and I was just getting used to my new role as a wife and a part-time sign language interpreter.

Just before I turned off the car, I heard Bob interrupt his own joke with the casual announcement that a small plane had crashed into the World Trade Center in what appeared to be an accident. At that point, I’d never been to New York and I didn’t know what the World Trade Center actually was. I didn’t know what it looked like. I didn’t know it was a tall building. In fact, if you had pinned me down for an answer in that moment, I would have had to admit that when I heard the words World Trade Center before September 11, what I pictured was a large open air market on Wall Street, similar to a farmer’s market, but maybe instead of flowers and fruits and vegetables, there were tables of money and piles of stock managed by men in suits and women in pencil skirts.

Knowing what we know now, I can’t imagine a time when I didn’t know what the World Trade Center was but that was before the world turned upside down.

Later that night, when all had heard the news and the sky above our country was eerily quiet, what I remember most was the fear and the uncertainty. I remember being thankful that John and I didn’t have any children yet. This place was too terrible for children. The world too unpredictable. Life was too fragile. We were not safe.

That’s how it felt that day for me, and I wasn’t even there. We live 500 miles from New York City, 300 miles from the Pentagon. I didn’t have a coworker, friend or loved one in one of the towers, at the Pentagon, or in any of the airplanes involved that morning. I can’t imagine what life looked like for them.

Years later, on the seventh anniversary of 9/11, I asked in a blog post for readers to share their stories with me about where they were when they learned about the events of September 11, 2001.

What were you doing when the world changed?

Who were you with when you heard the news?

What were you thinking on the day that marked before and after?

One reader wrote she was at Disney World. Another was at an outdoor flea market. Two more were getting coffee together before their college class started. One woman remembers walking into her living room and seeing her husband sitting there frozen, with one work boot on his foot and the other in his hand, as he stared at the TV. I read every word from the comment section of that post representing stories from all over the country and all over the world.

A pregnant mother dreamed for weeks that 9/11 would be the day her baby girl would be born, only to wake up to the terrible news. There was the wife of a United Airlines worker, a police officer for the LAPD, and the wife of a soldier. One reader was even at the Trade Center just an hour before the first plane hit.

Mostly there were just regular stories, like the one from the blog Brambleberry Grace, where she simply stated the facts of her life at that time, and they could have been true for any of us. She wrote, “I ruined my car. We were having a baby. Something horrible was happening in our country. I got stung by a bee.”

We were all doing the regular, normal life stuff: making breakfast, putting on makeup, driving to work, watching the news, teaching a class, enjoying a family vacation, when one tragic event interrupted each life and brought us all to a collective halt.

I mentioned before that I remember the fear and uncertainty I felt, but here’s something else I remember. In my journal the next day, September 12, 2001, I wrote out Psalm 91 by hand.

“He who dwells in the shelter of the most high will rest in the shadow of the almighty. I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.”

When I felt afraid and didn’t know how to pray or what to say, I wrote down those words from Psalm 91.

At that time, I would have called that journaling, but looking back, I think it was more than that. It was prayer.

I didn’t grow up in a church that recited prayers very much. We hardly even said the Lord’s Prayer, at least not with any regularity and certainly not collectively. But in times of fear, confusion, loneliness, disappointment, or decision fatigue, turning to familiar passages of scripture is a lifeline. This pivot from my problem to the presence of God, that’s an act of worship, and the words recited in the turning, those are words of prayer.

I used to think prayer only counted if you made it up as you went along, like somehow it wasn’t authentic if you wrote it out, read it, or worst of all, copied the words from somebody else. But what I’ve realized as I look back on my life is when uncertainty permeates the moment, whether because of a devastating national tragedy or personal season of doubt, a regular practice of praying familiar words not only counts, but could even be a radical act of faith.

I’ve been borrowing prayers for years now. I just never called it that.

And it’s exactly the way Jesus taught us to pray. In Matthew 6, Jesus says, “This then is how you should pray.” Then he goes on and he says, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

Jesus not only allows copying, he welcomes it. He instructs it. How else are we to learn? This instruction from Jesus doesn’t exactly go against the advice I’ve always heard about how prayer is simply talking to God, but it at least opens up the conversation to something more. Because sometimes talking to God isn’t that easy. That’s not to say it can’t be that easy. It can, but for some that may not come natural, or it may not come natural anymore, or maybe it’s not coming natural today.

It’s normal for a child to have to learn how to ride a bike, for a student to learn how to do algebra, for a first-time mom to have to learn how to feed her baby. It’s normal that we have to learn to read, to write, and to communicate. You know what else can be normal? Learning how to pray.

While there isn’t just one right way to do it, lack of instruction or guidance could cause some of us to avoid it altogether. So if you’re feeling scared, uncertain, or stuck in decision fatigue today, one way to start again could be to simply borrow a prayer.

Author and pastor Brian Zahnd teaches a little class he calls Prayer School, and I sat in on it in the spring of 2018. To this day, I remember some words he said that cleared things up for me when it comes to this idea of borrowing prayers, or as some might call it, liturgical prayer. For example, he pointed out one criticism of pre-written prayers is that maybe they lack life or vibrance or of spontaneous expression, but he pointed out that liturgy isn’t either dead or alive. Instead, it’s either true or false. What’s dead or alive is the person who prays.

“What we want,” he said, “is alive people to pray true things.” That’s what prayer is about.

As for me, I do both. And maybe your next right thing is to incorporate both into your own rhythm of life because we can pray as we go along or as we sit still. We can pray in desperation with words that spill out in the moment, or we can pray in desperation with words crafted by the saints. We can pray with eyes open or closed, hands lifted or folded, while walking or sitting or laughing out loud.

We can pray.

For years, our little community have prayed together for something for a friend. For years we got a no, and then a few weeks ago, without advanced notice or much fanfare, we got a yes. And just like that, everything changed.

For years, we needed the space to pray personally, specifically, and spontaneously for our friend, but we also needed the liturgy to remind us of the truth when we forgot.

We all need to cry out and express our thoughts and our desires to God. We also need to confess the faith that has been handed down from generations before us, to remind us that we are not the beginning and we won’t be the end.

Our faith is given, and we’re invited to step into it.

It started before us and it will continue after us. That’s what the liturgy reminds us of. We need to pray for our family, for our friends, and for our needs. We also need to pray the words of Psalm 23 to remember the Lord is our shepherd and we have everything we need.

If you don’t have a borrowed prayer as part of your rhythm of life, maybe it’s time to pick one. Two prayers I pray almost daily, I’ve already mentioned them, The Lord’s Prayer found in Matthew 6, and Psalm 23. A passage of scripture can always be prayer. We can pray on our own or we can pray in community. A good example of a communal practice is a prayer in Revelation 22:20 that says simply, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

If we prayed this as a church together, I wonder how it would change our minds. Would we remember our longing for him to come in the future and our expectation that he will come be with us now?

Author David Fitch says, “Come, Lord Jesus . . .  embodies the posture of prayer we gather in at every meal, in every conflict, while proclaiming the gospel, while sitting with the marginalized, and being with the children, while exercising his gifts. This prayer shapes us to live together as his faithful presence in the world.”

May it be so in us.

Finally, here’s one of my favorite borrowed prayers from St. Francis that’s good to begin or end the day with. Maybe your next right thing is to simply pray it together with me now.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light, and where there is sadness, joy.

Oh, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it’s in dying that we’re born to eternal life.

Amen.

If you’re looking for some more resources for borrowed prayers, check out the show notes for Episode 93 of The Next Right Thing.

Filed Under: The Next Right Thing

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Isabel says

    September 11, 2019 at 5:59 PM

    I loved this Emily. Your words and wisdom are always so gentle, comforting.

    Reply
    • emily p freeman says

      September 11, 2019 at 6:18 PM

      I’m so glad.

      Reply
  2. Rhonda Richey says

    September 11, 2019 at 6:40 PM

    Today on the anniversary of 9/11, I remembered my friend Marcus Brown. Marcus counseled 9/11 rescue workers and then left full time therapy because it had begun to affect his health. When I was in a train accident in 2005, Marcus supported my healing with phone calls and care packages of humorous DVDs to watch. Marcus died suddenly in 2008.

    I’ve never forgotten his kindness. So today my heart feels him nearby. I’m not sure what to pray other than one of gratitude.

    On another 9/11 in 1961 Hurricane Carla flooded my family’s home in Groves, TX. I am blessed that my parents had the wisdom to take we 3 children to higher ground. On this 9/11 and all others, I pray for God’s guidance and love. Those are the only things we can count on.

    Love to you Emily

    Reply
  3. April says

    September 11, 2019 at 8:12 PM

    Emily, you have been such a blessing to me! Thank you for your words and your podcasts. I wish we could sit and chat over a cup of tea.
    I am a lifelong Catholic and find that I struggle sometimes with my faith and the Church. I love Pope Francis as he reminded all of us at the beginning of his ministry to just go back to the words of Jesus. Make it simple. Strip things down to the most important. I feel like you do this so well. I remember finding you and wondering if your spirituality would cause me conflict. I was greatly surprised when you quoted Henri Nouwen and Richard Rohr. You have read some of my favorites!

    This post really speaks to me. As you know, Catholics have several memorized prayers. I have always felt they were especially useful in times of turmoil or when I’m at a complete loss for words. I have a harder time with free-form prayer (compose as you go), but hope to improve with practice. Prayer feels like a rut sometimes. I worry it may not be good enough if I go rogue!

    Thank you again and God bless you always,
    April

    Reply
    • emily p freeman says

      September 12, 2019 at 10:14 AM

      I’ve learned so much from my Catholic brothers and sisters. What a gift you are to the Body of Christ!

      Reply
  4. Kayli says

    September 11, 2019 at 9:20 PM

    Thank you, Emily. JUST what I needed here tonight. <3 Especially the prayer from St. Francis. My heart is hurting and angry. I expressed that to the Lord out loud today, but was still working my way toward a softer heart. Just as I was reminding myself to do with my oldest son yesterday, I need to continue loving my husband, seeking to understand above being understood, and so on. 😉 Thank you, Dear, for turning our eyes toward Jesus and how HE might have us respond in our unique circumstances. <3

    Reply
  5. Jacquie M Delcambre says

    September 11, 2019 at 11:06 PM

    Thank you so much for all that you share. You are a touchpoint to me when I’m troubled, or hurting… a place in the shade to catch my breath. Thank you for the gifts you give to all of us with your gentle spirit, soothing words, beautiful music, and quiet strength and wisdom. You have definitely been gifted so much to share with others. Thank you. ?

    Reply
  6. Nadene says

    September 12, 2019 at 2:42 AM

    Such reassuring reminders to pray these precious prayers, Emily. I revived the prayer of Saint Francis today and found his words deeply challenging in my current situation in a difficult relationship. I realized that I have much to trust God to change in my own heart. My own prayers may never have revealed the one-sided approach to my praying into the situation. Thank you for your sound and encouraging words.

    Reply
  7. Emily Harris says

    September 12, 2019 at 7:03 AM

    This post was perfect this morning. I went late into the day yesterday forgetting what day it was…ending the evening in the bathroom reading post after post in memory of September 11…including my own memorialized by FB from 5 years ago. I went to sleep restless and saying a prayer of remorse and over all terrorism that takes place all over our world, even as I prayed that moment. I feel asleep having not finished reading your post…and woke continuing in my quiet time this morning on our sunporch, sunrise in view. How blessed I felt to complete my remembrance of that day with similar reflections and focus on prayer. To end with the very prayer/vision/word that has been on my heart for me and our home for days now…”to be an instrument of peace…”, touched me so, with tears in my eyes…
    Thank you for bringing us back to praying continually and pointing us to The Peacemaker…thank you Jesus!

    Reply
    • Emily Harris says

      September 12, 2019 at 7:26 AM

      Correction, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace…”

      Reply
  8. Linda says

    September 14, 2019 at 8:02 AM

    Thank you Emily I needed to hear that.Sometimes I just haven’t the words to say to God or know what to say.Praying scripure helps me.It makes me feel closer to God and helps with the words I want to say but don’t always have.I live the prayer by St Francis.Thanks for your encouraging words

    Reply
  9. Kara says

    September 14, 2019 at 7:26 PM

    I’ve been struggling to “learn how to pray” which was one of my goals this year – what a weird goal to want to learn how to pray. I’ve never thought of borrowed prayers but I do things like this all the time. I sit in quiet and write scripture or another prayer or read a poem by Mary Oliver outloud. That too is prayer. Thank you for the permission to not always make prayer something it doesn’t have to be. Sometimes it is just sitting with God even if never say any of my own words.

    Reply

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