1. I’m sort of tired of being the one who says ‘Do you want to pray?’ Not because I did it lots and lots, but more because I spent quite some time where it was kind of my job to pray with people and for people. Its true, I appear to have gotten a good desire somehow twisted because it wore me down and it shouldn’t have.
2. I’m worried you’ll think I’m the sort of person who says ‘Do you want to pray?’ These people know what they are doing, they are Sorted to a degree which means they’ll ask that question. I’m sort of tired of being the one people think is Sorted.
3. I don’t want you to think I THINK I’m the sort of Sorted person who says ‘Do you want to pray?’ Because then you might inwardly laugh or sneer as you see so very, very, painfully clearly that I am NOT that sort of person.
4. These then lead on to the fact that it somehow feels not very avant garde for us 30 somethings to pray together. Aren’t we all a little too old and wise for such evangelical (spit) earnestness? Aren’t we all a little too nonchalant for all that? If I say ‘Do you want to pray?’ I might show myself up as someone so stuck in the past of what we called ‘fellowship’ as we grew up…
5. While being afraid of my doubts that the prayer will go un-answered, I am even more afraid of YOUR doubts about the prayer. I’m afraid that this dynamic will push me back into the role described in number 1, thus spiralling through the whole thing again.
6. Then the simple reason that the culmination of all of the above and its twisted thinking and confusion will come to a head in an earnest, heartfelt cry for help from the One who might just do that, which will only serve to unveil fragility and let loose tears.
And that’s just messy.
my small corner 