A Prayer for Faith and Courage; 2020; 11″ x 14″; ink on Yupo paper.

A therapist once told me I speak fewer words than any female he’s ever met.

It’s true. I possess a daily quota of words. And when it’s up, it’s over. I’m done talking. From sun up to sun down, I can listen to endless streams of words with great interest and empathy. But only so many reside within me.

So, when a friend asked me to pray for half an hour about a particular issue, I balked. I’ve always wondered if I’m reneging on a basic Christian exercise. But issuing words for thirty minutes straight feels like a formidable mountain I am ill-equipped to scale.

I know people who pray out loud all night long, impassioned words whispered and shouted, overtaking what is and transforming it into what should be. These sacrifices have changed my life, literally altered the course of events for me and family members. I owe these intercessors an immeasurable debt.

I’ve prayed through the night, but not with words. For me, it’s a tossing and turning with a burden on my heart. A slipping in and out of sleep, emerging into consciousness with a weight lifted from my spirit to God. Is that really praying?

Most often, I express prayer through physical activity. Again, a name or an impression floods my spirit as my feet pound the pavement, I pedal my bike, or my hand moves a brush across paper. Sometimes a word intertwines with the movement. But, most often it’s an intangible flow from a simple heart into a Love I trust with all that I am.

So I asked my friend if I could “paint a prayer” for the half hour slot. The outcome – A Prayer for Faith and Courage.

How do you pray? Have you discovered any unconventional methods for connecting your heart to God’s?