Let Your Prayer Be Interruptible

I mentioned in the previous post about getting upset over not following through with my plans for the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I know I'm not the only one that does that. What I mean is sweating when we get slightly off track our perfectly planned prayer, devotion, liturgical calendar, novena, consecration life. And I've done it before, I've been asked about it, and I've asked after freaking out about it. What do I do if I missed a day? What do I do if I missed I ended a decade to early? What if I prayed too many Hail Marys? Someone needed help while I was headed to mass and I didn't know what to do? I mean come on it's one of the big 10!

One thing I've learned recently is that God, faith, prayer is simple. We over think things and make them way to complicated. We are meant for a relationship with God. How do we start, build, sustain that? Prayer. What is prayer? Conversation. What's the correct way? Whatever way works best for you. What if I forget? Make it up. What if I pray too many, too few, too short, too long? Who cares? How do I start? JUST DO IT!

We want things to be perfect. But life is messy. God knows that. He came down into our mess and lived in it. When did Jesus pray? Before things. After things. During things. But the main take home point is that he prayed. I think if our prayer life is adding stress to our life we are doing it wrong.

And in all reality sometimes life itself must become our prayer. I'm thinking of St. Therese of Liseux and her little way here. But not even that, I mean sometimes we can and should choose life, what is happening right in front of us, over our perfectly planned prayer life. Your kids barge in on your perfectly quiet prayer time. Choose them sometimes. Your spouse wants to talk when you are delving into your spiritual reading? Choose him or her. And shockingly, even the ultimate prayer, the mass, can take a back seat to life. Let me explain.

What I am about to tell you happened and I wasn't sure at the time if it was OK but it felt so right and I didn't stress over it. It wasn't until I read a book that I've referenced often that I assured I had made the right choice. One Sunday last year we went to the Sacred Heart Co-Cathedral in downtown Houston. I don't remember why but I ended up leaving mass to run to the car for something. I ran into a homeless woman on my way to the car and she was asking for money. I did not have any cash but I offered to walk with her to the Pappas BBQ across the street and get her some food. This took a good 20 minutes. 20 minutes away from mass. Let's just say Erika was pretty worried about what had happened to me. But, 20 minutes?! Was i committing a mortal sin? I honestly did not feel guilty. And thanks to St. Bernard of Clairvaux I know it was the right choice:

Who will doubt that in prayer a man is speaking with God? But how often, at the call of charity, we are drawn away, torn away, for the sake of those who need to speak to us or be helped! How often does dutiful repose yield dutifully to the uproar of business! How often is a book laid aside in good conscience that we may sweat at manual work! How often for the sake of administering worldly affairs we very rightly omit even the solemn celebration of Masses! A preposterous order; but necessity knows no law. Love in action devises its own order. - Fulfillment of All Desire: A Guidebook for the Journey to God Based on the Wisdom of the Saints

St. Bernard told his monks that he appreciated their respect for his busy schedule but he never wanted to be uninterruptible. He wanted to be on the side of love.

So yeah, my daughter getting sick ruined my plans for going to the special mass for the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the gathering after. I could have gotten upset. I could have put my family in an uncomfortable situation and brought them. I could have been a total grinch and gone by myself, "Well I'm not going to miss it!" But those plans had to be pushed aside so I could go home and love on my family. She's a mom. I'm pretty sure she approved.