I pray everyday. My prayers usually are conversational, ones in which I talk to the Lord and he kindly listens. Sometimes I sense his presence; other times I pray in faith, believing in what I can’t see or feel. I pray for people in my life, for some more than others. At times I shoot emergency requests like arrows, hoping to pierce the compassion of Christ.
Sometimes I sit silently and wait for God’s Spirit to counsel me. I wish I were better at that kind of prayer because during those times I gain the ability to survive the injustices and inequities of this life with more grace and holy ingenuity. I’ve noticed the more acute my ear becomes to identifying the Lord’s voice from ongoing racket in my head, the more sensitive and discriminating my “knower” is.
To pray is nothing more involved than to open the door, giving Jesus access to our needs and permitting Him to exercise His own power in dealing with them.