If there be a God, and I am his creature, there may be, there should be, there must be some communication open between him and me. If anyone say there is a God, but one scarce good enough to care about his creatures, I will grant him that it were foolish to pray to such a God; but the notion that, with all the good impulses in us, we are the offspring of a cold-hearted devil, is so horrible in its inconsistency, that I would ask that man what hideous disregard of the truth makes him capable of the supposition!
If I find my position, my consciousness, that of one far from home, nay, that of one in some sort of prison; if I find that I can neither rule the world in which I love, nor my own thoughts or desires; that I cannot quiet my passions, order my likings, determine my ends, will my growth, forget when I would, or recall what I forget; that I cannot love where I would, or hate where I would; that I am no king over myself; that I cannot supply my own needs, do not even always know which of my seeming needs are to be supplied, and which treated as impostors; if, in a word, my own being is in every way too much for me; if I can neither understand it, be satisfied with it, not better it—may it not well give me pause—the pause that ends in prayer?
The Pause That Ends in Prayer
by Jolyn Canty
We are all looking for answers to life’s tough questions. Often one hears the suggestion to “Stop, pause, and take a deep breath.”
To pause, according to Merriam-Webster, is defined as a thought that should give one pause; a temporary inaction especially caused by uncertainty. It is synonymous with abiding and respite. I like the thought that taking a pause, a respite, and abiding, can lead to and end with prayer.
Pausing allows us to listen and then communicate. It gets us out of our “self” thoughts, which can be cumbersome, stifling, and erroneous. Pausing allows us to stop and ask the important questions that we otherwise avoid. And, questions are always good, as George MacDonald wrote: “Every question is a door handle” (Warlock o’Glenwarlock, ch. 23).
“…if, in a word, my own being is in every way too much for me; if I can neither understand it, be satisfied with it, not better it—may it not well give me pause—the pause that ends in prayer?”