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World at Prayer blog
Reflections of Family and Faith
"The family that prays together stays together." - Venerable Patrick Peyton
All of us know children who are coping with the pain experienced when family relationships are fractured by angry divorces, abuse, or neglect. They are our children’s friends, our grandchildren, our neighbors, or perhaps our nieces and nephews. Beyond the emotional woundedness they carry into each day, hidden spiritual scars can devastate their lives for decades and enslave their souls. We can comfort a hurting child in surprisingly simple but effective ways.
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The seventeenth-century poet John Donne famously quipped “No man is an island” in his poem of the same name. Like the ripples in a pond after a stone is thrown, our actions continue on – even after our part has been done. While it is easy to feel as though we are the only ones impacted by what we do, that is not the case. We affect everyone around us.
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My friend xyz posted that s/he needed prayers for a loved one who has been sick for quite some time now. The family is at wit’s end between doctor’s appointments and trying to take care of their children. We have made praying for people a brief response to circumvent their pain. When people are going through struggles, we reply with “I’ll pray for you,” and then we proceed to walk away and forget about their struggles and refocus on our menial, unimportant to-do list for the day.
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I have always been fascinated by daily prayer rituals. Do you pray the rosary as you fold laundry? Listen to the daily Mass readings on a podcast as you clean the house? Pray in the car?
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Each time something horrible happens in our world, I find myself having the same conversation with one person or another: “Do you think this is the end?” It used to make me very anxious. “No man knows the day,” so it very well might be, right? If it is, what am I doing bothering with learning, shopping, cleaning, or anything? It would all be pointless.
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Almost every evening as I head home from work, there is a homeless veteran conveniently perched at the end of the highway exit where cars line up at a red light. He is there in the cold and snow, the clouds and sun. At first I felt compassion for the guy and wondered how I could help, but as he appeared day after day, week after week, I began to get angry.
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