Teaching the Next Generation to Pray

Sometimes I wonder how in the world I will teach my children to pray when I’m feeling so weak at it myself.

I let worldly distractions, well, distract me. I get tired. I have something else to do with a deadline. I forget. I don’t know what to say. One million reasons exist for not praying some days. Praise God He loves us & sees us as lovely no matter how dark we are feeling or acting. (Song of Songs 1:5 & 6)

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit.” ~Aristotle

Well, Mr. Aristotle, please tell me: how do I make my life a habitual song of praise & adoration to my Lord? How can I keep my spirit in constant communion with the One I love?

A little on my prayer history (so you know where I’m coming from):

One of my parents was raised Catholic & the other Lutheran, but neither really committed to their churches, & when they had us, decided not to attend or baptize us (I’m the oldest of 4 children) in either church, but instead to teach us what they knew about God. My parents told us the stories of the Bible they remembered learning, some prayers they had memorized, & also to pray whenever life warranted it (healing for a boo-boo or someone sick, financial problems, etc.). We prayed the standard before dinner & before bed. They also watched biblical movies with us & I accepted Jesus as my Savior during the crucifixion scene in “Jesus of Nazareth” when I was about 8 yrs old or so. I know that a church community is important, but I love my parents for doing what they felt was right for our family. All 4 of us now-adult children are Bible-believing Christians today.

The first time I felt the Holy Spirit I didn’t know I was encountering Him because I wasn’t even praying. I was about 15 yrs old & it was summer vacation so I was up late, maybe 4 or 5 a.m., playing Nintendo’s “Dr. Mario” in my brothers’ room. I used to play for hours at a time. I didn’t hang out with friends at the mall or talk on the phone. I was either reading, with my family, or playing puzzle games. Listening to Bryan Adams’ song “Heaven”, I thought about God & suddenly was overcome with His Spirit. I didn’t know what I was feeling, but I cried as I listened to the lyrics & felt God was singing it to me. My body played the game but I paid absolutely no attention to how amazingly I was winning. I could not explain it the next morning, but now I know Jesus was singing a love song to my heart & claiming me for His own.

When I went to college at a local university, in a weird twist, which I know was divine appointment, my dad & I met a campus minister. I joined that ministry in spring 1998 & met one of the other writers of this blog, Kevin. I never thought I would learn so much more about life outside the classroom rather than inside the university’s large, lecture halls. I’ve been really learning about a relationship with God ever since. I didn’t know we could hear God speaking to us in various ways until that spring of ’98 & was amazed when I first heard His beautiful whisper, “Follow Him. Give to Him”. I chose to get baptized & was flooded with dreams, learning about how God speaks to us all in the ways He chooses.

Eleven yrs later & many times I’m puzzled by His mysteries…I’m still learning that I need to make prayer more like a dialogue & less like me reading a list of to-dos to my Lord. Once in a while I get it right & walk away from the encounter with our conversation written (so I don’t forget), with His instructions & encouragement for me. Most days unfortunately, I don’t have this encounter. My heart longs for more of those purposeful, prophetic encounters when He dares to share a secret or 2 with me.

And so, now that I’m married, & a mom of an incredible 2 yr old son (yes, I know, I’m biased!) & 6 months pregnant with my second child, I have been trying to figure out how to teach my children to pray. In my blog posts, this is exactly what I’ll be discussing. The ups & downs, what works & what doesn’t (at least for us), my frustrations & “my successes” (meaning those wondrous times when my son surprises & teaches me, & I didn’t really do anything at all!)

My heart breaks for the little ones. Knowledge of their abuse &/or neglect is painful for me. I have grand ideas of how to change the world, if only I could, but in the meantime I’m starting at home. In order to make a real difference & teach the next generation to pray, I’m starting with my own little piece of it. It may be a drop in the bucket, but drops make ripples…

I’ll leave you with some Mr. Rodgers, because he got a lot of stuff right:
“Childhood is not just clowns and balloons. In fact, childhood goes to the very heart of who we all become.”

~Dalene