The Art of Prayer, Part 5

   "Then God said, "Let lights appear in the sky to separate the day from the night. Let them be signs to mark the seasons, days and years. Let these lights in the sky shine down on the earth. And that is what happened. God made two great lights--the larger one to govern the day, and the smaller one to govern the night. He also made the stars. God set these lights in the sky to light the earth, to govern the day and night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. And evening passed and morning came, marking the fourth day." Genesis 1:14-19

  There's an order to creation. Just like walking. First an infant learns to roll over, then crawl. Tentative first steps are made while hanging onto solid ground like the edge of a table. With a massive display of courage, the child steps out into the void, unencumbered by hand holds. Before long, the parents are chasing her as she runs, laughing, to escape bath time.

  God took the void and began the building of creation, filling the emptiness of nothing.

  Nothing begs to become something. Nothing is the bated breath held in anticipation of wonderful things like the child's first step that forever changed it. The void became an identifiable something...it became the distance between two things, measured by the steps of a child.

  Being still is entering the void, the place that both exists and doesn't exist at the same time. 

  Being still is becoming the birthplace of creation, a void waiting to be filled.

  Being still is where we allow our true selves, in all our brokenness, to come before God.

  Being still is allowing the void that holds all our memories and experiences to come to the surface. It could open doors you had long slammed shut.

  Don't be surprised if the first thing that wells up is emotion

  Don't be surprised if you can't identify what you are feeling. Many of us never had the opportunity to explore our emotions. We were taught to shut them down.

  It's okay to not understand. Understanding will come with time.

  It's okay to be nervous and uncomfortable in this place of stillness. 

  It's okay to want to leave. Stay here as long as you want. There's no time limit or expectations. There's no parameters or goal setting required.

  The void, the place of quiet anticipation, will wait for your return.

  Maybe, the next time or even the time after that, ask God to lead you to an image in a magazine which illustrates a piece of what you are feeling. Flip through the pages like you are doodling on the phone. Don't overthink things. It might be a picture or more than one. It could be a phrase or even a single word or something else altogether. Maybe it's the white edge surrounding an article. Cut or tear it out and glue it down in the inexpensive sketch pad you purchased for this purpose.

  It's your very first prayer using art and like an infant's first smile, it is something to celebrate!