Finding Truth in Prayer
Glory, God stared me in the face. A man, my savior stood at the curtain. “Are you planning to pray?” he inquired. I blinked twice, “Um... yes?”
Praying isn’t my ‘thing,’ but I figured “When in Vatican City...”
I stepped past the man and into Enlightenment. Behind the curtain a room heavy with relics awaited. People stood, sat in the corners; heads down and hands clasped the room was immobile. Satan himself could not stir a soul.
I took my place in the pew furthest from the front in a dark corner. Mindlessly I closed my eyes, hands and tilted my head. “Ask God for three things” my stepmother whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes.
The room was remarkably bright. Angels flew above my head. How could I have never noticed before? And the altar before me rang with a holy, resonant sound. And this sound, this deep hum filled my mind, almost deafening any insecurities that I could ever find. This projection left me feeling whole, left me feeling safe and secure.
I was ready, I closed my eyes. Just like Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall.” It occurred to me that when you wall something out (God), you’re also walling something in (the very glimmer that one day I’d have faith). I chose to break down that wall.
But what to ask for? Here I am in what has to be one of the holiest places I will ever encounter and I’m gearing to pray. I don’t pray. What do I want?
“Truth.” I heard myself whisper. Yes, the word flowed right out of me. An eternal flame had been lit, and I felt remarkably warm. I could not contain myself, I continued to whisper “I want to find the truth. Any and all truth, and somehow find its’ beauty.”
Sure it wasn’t exactly three things that I had asked from him, but I figured if I put this one on hold, he’d be sure to listen another day. Bombarded, my mind filled with a million thoughts and ideas. I felt like I could see through any problem solely because I’m meant to. I knew what I wanted - the mere idea...