We regularly post prayer requests at the homeschooling forum. Last year I managed one of the 4 prayer request lists of the homeschooling group. I am surrounded by prayer, and prayerful people, online and off, and I’ve tried to make my life a prayer, talking to God at random moments during the day, but for some reason, this morning, I have been thinking about prayer itself.

On some level, I do understand that all prayer is prayer. That prayer is nothing more than communication with my God, be it through a “formula” prayer that is said from the depths of my heart, or through a statement as simple as “God, help me!”

A friend recently asked for prayers for her unborn child, and I promised our family’s rosary that night for her. When I promise to pray for people, I don’t know why, but while praying the particular prayer that was promised (hah!), I feel guilty when I start thinking of other things or praying for other things. It’s like I’m “cheating” the person of the prayer that I’m saying for him/her. I know that shouldn’t be the case, but that’s how I feel.

I know the notion that some prayers count more than others is ridiculous, perhaps it’s something I picked up as I was exposed to other faiths, and heard/read others belittling the Catholics’ formula prayers. (Though I had always believed that it’s not the words you say but how much of yourself you put into the prayer.) Or perhaps it’s my relative ignorance about traditional prayers of the Church. I do know certain prayers but I admit I’d have to Google if you asked me to give you a novena for getting a new job, let’s say. Not that I think a novena is more powerful than simply saying, “Lord, bless that person and help him get a new job.” Or maybe it’s my exposure, in recent years, to people who have the “prayer answer” to this and that, and the realization that I’m not as good a Catholic as I’d like to be. Which is totally wrong since I’m sure God will not ask me how many prayers I know or how many saints from whom I’ve asked intercession. Maybe it’s the desire to teach my children something that I still don’t fully comprehend. Maybe it’s my own drive for perfectionism, this know-all tendency that comes from and can amount to nothing but evil. Maybe it’s because the more I get to know my faith, the more I’m aware of the blanks and gaps that exist…. and I struggle with the knowledge that in the end, those blanks and gaps won’t matter anyway…. though I still would like to fill them. Hmm.