The Importance of Our Childhood Prayers

Growing up as a Roman Catholic I was taught the prayers of the Catechism (a handbook for teaching the fundamentals with questions and answers for teaching principles) and prayed them regularly to keep my mind and heart focused on God.  I liked saying the words that took me beyond myself where I could rest upon the purposes of God.  I found a security there that I did not find in my dysfunctional world.  I found something of a peace that was reassuring to me.  Many times when walking home from school, my feet led me to the sweet smelling refuge of St. Mary's Catholic Church, where I knelt in the quietness (except for the occasional creaking of the wood, etc.) and prayed those lovely rote prayers and then sat in the stillness surrounded by love.    

Some years later after I surrendered my life to the Lord in a much fuller way, I discovered the delight of talking to Him in many different and very personal ways, and I left the prayers of my childhood except for times of the corporate worship of the mass.  There were other times, to be sure, but not on a regular basis. Most of the time as I studied the Scriptures, I found myself caught up in the presence of the Lord and I responded with joyful praise, thanksgiving and listening.  It was so rich and satisfying that I didn't realize how much I would need the prayers of my childhood, until-just recently, until-

Major back surgery with such agonizing pain that I could not think, I could not handle it, and I could not bear it.  I could not "find" the Lord where I'd last met with Him.  The only thing I could do is utter pleas for His help and the prayers of my childhood, over and over, again and again, and I found a measure of comfort, if not relief.  Once again, those words in my mind and heart took me beyond myself where I was filled with pain.

Some weeks later as I pondered the entire experience, I was also able to see how I had tried to run away from the excruciating pain which was nothing compared to the pain and suffering that Jesus "ran" to on my behalf.  How "He took upon the form of a servant,...and humbled Himself, became obedient to death, even the death on the cross."

Now I am grateful for this time of pain, prayer, and but a tiny understanding of the sacrificial love of my Savior, Jesus Christ.  The prayers of my childhood are a treasure to me still, along with the joy of expressing my love to my God in ever so many different ways, too.  

.