I grew up in a Christian family and as a little child every night Mum would say with me this prayer:
Gentle Jesus meek and mild, look upon this little child
Pity her simplicity, suffer her to come to Thee
I had no idea what it meant, but I liked poetry, so I was quite happy to say it, and it gave me the idea of a daily prayer time. When I was in my early teens, I went to a Christmas pantomime, Give A Dog A Bone, whose general theme was that if you said the words ‘I couldn’t care less’ you were changed into the animal you were most like. And the only way back to human form was to genuinely say the words ‘Please, Thank you and Sorry’. I rather liked this and began to base my nighttime prayers on Please, Thank you and Sorry.
When I was not quite 18, I was confronted with a difficult decision. I had won several university scholarships which would lead to status and security, and alternatively I had the chance to train and work as a volunteer with Moral Re-Armament (now Initiatives of Change), which was working to build a better world. I remember this particular night sitting on my bedroom floor with a bad cold and praying for God’s leading. I picked up my Bible and randomly opened it, and it fell open at a part of the book of Proverbs which I had never read before:
And now my sons, listen to me: Happy are those who keep my ways.
Hear instruction and be wise, and do not neglect it.
Happy is the man who listens to me,
Watching daily at my gates, waiting beside my doors,
For he who finds me finds life and obtains favour from the Lord;
But he who misses me injures himself; All who hate me love death.
(Proverbs 8:32-36)
I felt this was an answer to prayer, and spent the rest of my life working voluntarily in different parts of the world to build bridges between people and to bring change at a personal, national and international level. The basis of that work was a morning quiet time – a chance to read the Bible, and then to listen quietly to God for any thoughts about the past, the present and the future, and to write those thoughts down. There is an old Chinese proverb that the strongest memory is not as strong as the palest of ink. Many people think prayer is using a lot of words to talk to God. For me, listening prayer is the most important, amazing and sustaining way to live.
One time when I was having difficulty working with colleagues, my dear Mum, a wonderful mentor in my life, suggested I pray for them. ‘It is difficult,’ she said, ‘to dislike someone if you are praying for them.’ And I found she was right.
Some years later, married to a wonderful man who was involved in the same work and with two small boys aged 5 and 8, my husband David was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumour. At this point, you really find out whether the faith you have based your life on is real or not. I had always believed in praying for others, but when the news got out and people across the world, including churches that didn’t even know us, began to pray, our home was wrapped and supported in an incredible peace which took us through those dark days to the other side. David’s brain surgeon was an outspoken atheist, and he knew we were Christians, so when we went back for the post-op check up, he said in a rather jeering tone ‘I suppose you think God saved you’. To which David replied ‘No, much better people than me have not made it. But He did promise to be with me whatever happened and with those I love.’ And on the way out he turned back and said to the surgeon: ‘You know, faith is like a light bulb. In order to know if it works, you have to switch it on.’ A wry smile from the surgeon.
He escaped death that time, but in his early 60s he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, an incurable bone cancer, and died 11 years ago. By an extraordinary miracle, we were able to buy a home in Gerringong a year before he died. I closed up my nonstop life in Sydney and moved there, an area I loved but where I hardly knew anyone. I fell in a bit of a heap. But I always felt God’s presence and guidance, and continue to be led to people and situations to care for. I was invited to a Christian Meditation course and went along a bit grudgingly because I felt my whole life was like a meditation now! It wasn’t, of course, and I was to discover Christian Meditation is a practice and spiritual discipline. It was a completely new experience for me as I learned to sit still and just be – no words, no plans, no self-centered videos or prayers for others. John Main, the Benedictine monk who rediscovered the deep Christian roots of meditation writes: ‘The journey is a journey away from self, away from egoism, away from selfishness, away from isolation and it is a journey into the infinite love of God.’
It has enriched my morning quiet hour. I now start by writing down three things I am grateful for from the day before – this practice is a lifeline for me – then a daily Bible reading, then sitting quietly to think about the day and write my thoughts down, then 25 mins meditation, finishing with prayers for the people and places God has placed on my heart. This is my prayer journey so far – I am sure the story is not finished yet.
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