Adventures in Prayer: Formation Prayer

 There is a problem.  Every time I read this book I cry.  Chapter six, Formation Prayer, once again is perfectly timed.  Literally seconds before opening the book, I was putting my son down for his nap.  As I always pray for him as I put him down, this time, all I could was rest my forehead on the side of the crib and pray a simple, desperate, “God, change me.”   You see, I have wicked heart.  You may or may not see it, but it’s true.  I saw it this morning, nothing outwardly, just an attitude.  A simple finding out about someone else’s successful situation and my initial response was one of criticism, frustration, and envy.  Oh of course I’d never say such a thing, and a moment later I was asking God to change my heart, but that was my initial response.  That’s what was in my heart—not pretty.
 I need formation.  I need transformation.  God is so good to use prayer in this way.  At first, as Foster says, we are happy to have God answering our requests, but then He insists that He wants to take us deeper, so He changes prayer from being about asking for things to being about Him changing us.  The key to this is humility.  Humility leads us through “the many little deaths of going beyond ourselves” (62).  One way of humbling ourselves is given by Therese of Liseux and she called it simply The Little Way.  The Little Way simply includes seeking out the menial job, welcoming unjuct criticism, befriending people who annoy us, and helping those who are ungrateful.  The little way is a simple practice of small, seemingly insignificant things for which we will never be thanked, praised, or lauded for—which is why it is so effective in cultivating humility.  God help me practice the Little Way.
 I was also drawn to the discussion of the importance of solitude.  Henri Nouwen says that “without solitude it is virtually impossible to life a spiritual life.”  Through solitude a “liberty is released in our hearts when we let go of the opinion of others!”  But this really hit me:  “At first we thought solitude was way to recharge our batteries in order to enter life’s many competitions with new vigor and strength.  In time, however, we find that solitude gives us power not to win the rat race but to ignore the rat race altogether” (63).  You see, I love being alone.  I love solitude, but it wasn’t until my first year of seminary that I realized something.  I’d written some paper for my spiritual formation class and my professor wrote on my paper, “Being alone does not necessarily equal being with God.”  Ouch.  A little rebuke and correction for me.  Solitude and quiet, silent time alone is not to recharge me for me, it is so that I may decrease and He may increase. 
 The chapter on Relinquishment and this chapter on Formation are like a one-two punch to my heart.  Good, powerful, effective—and knocking the wind out of me. 
 Lastly, Foster talks about contemplating our own death as a means of formation as we pray.  I do not like this.  I do not like to think about death, especially when it involves me!  I constantly pray that God would let me live long enough to see my children grown, that is my simple prayer.  But what Foster is saying is that it’s healthy to recognize that we will someday be gone, and that the world will go one as normal.  Things do not revolve around us.  Yes we are valued and loved and important, but our life here on earth is limited.  We live for something greater. 
 I actually think my prayer right now is nothing more than my prayer was right before reading the chapter: “God, change me.”  Now I wait, submit, and practice the Little Way.