God of My Prayer

When I pray, it’s as if my words have disappeared down some deep, dark well, from which no echo ever comes back to reassure me that they have struck the ground of your heart.

Lord, to pray my whole life long without hearing an answer, isn’t that too much to ask? You see how I run away from you time and time again, to speak with men who give me an answer, to busy myself with things that give me some kind of response.  You see how much I need to be answered.

Be merciful to me, my God. When I flee from prayer, it’s not that I want to flee from you, but from myself and my own superficiality. I don’t want to run away from your Infinity and Holiness, but from the deserted marketplace of my own soul. Every time I try to pray, I am doomed to wander in the barren wastes of my own emptiness, since I have left the world behind, and still cannot find my way into the true sanctuary of my inner self, the only place where you can be found and adored.

Give me, O God of my prayer, the grace to continue waiting for you in prayer.