Author: Amy Boucher Pye

  • Praying with a Painting: Praying for peace

    A painting of colorful buildings in Prague, with a church spire in the background.
    By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.

    Our thoughts turn to those in Ukraine, and those who have left their beloved country, as we hear continued news of war. And we are hearing of resistance from many in Russia too.

    We cry:

    Lord, have mercy.
    Christ, have mercy.
    Lord, have mercy.

    I offer this painting of my dad’s as a prayer prompt as we intercede for all those struck by war and conflict. What’s pictured is actually a slice of Prague, not Kyiv, but perhaps considering the Velvet Revolution may spur our prayers.

    You might want to join many Ukrainians who are praying through Psalm 31. Here’s a video Bible Society has put out, which I find moving:

    Psalm 31, NIV

    In you, Lord, I have taken refuge;
        let me never be put to shame;
        deliver me in your righteousness.
    Turn your ear to me,
        come quickly to my rescue;
    be my rock of refuge,
        a strong fortress to save me.
    Since you are my rock and my fortress,
        for the sake of your name lead and guide me.
    Keep me free from the trap that is set for me,
        for you are my refuge.
    Into your hands I commit my spirit;
        deliver me, Lord, my faithful God.

    I hate those who cling to worthless idols;
        as for me, I trust in the Lord.
    I will be glad and rejoice in your love,
        for you saw my affliction
        and knew the anguish of my soul.
    You have not given me into the hands of the enemy
        but have set my feet in a spacious place.

    Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress;
        my eyes grow weak with sorrow,
        my soul and body with grief.
    10 My life is consumed by anguish
        and my years by groaning;
    my strength fails because of my affliction,[b]
        and my bones grow weak.
    11 Because of all my enemies,
        I am the utter contempt of my neighbors
    and an object of dread to my closest friends—
        those who see me on the street flee from me.
    12 I am forgotten as though I were dead;
        I have become like broken pottery.
    13 For I hear many whispering,
        “Terror on every side!”
    They conspire against me
        and plot to take my life.

    14 But I trust in you, Lord;
        I say, “You are my God.”
    15 My times are in your hands;
        deliver me from the hands of my enemies,
        from those who pursue me.
    16 Let your face shine on your servant;
        save me in your unfailing love.
    17 Let me not be put to shame, Lord,
        for I have cried out to you;
    but let the wicked be put to shame
        and be silent in the realm of the dead.
    18 Let their lying lips be silenced,
        for with pride and contempt
        they speak arrogantly against the righteous.

    19 How abundant are the good things
        that you have stored up for those who fear you,
    that you bestow in the sight of all,
        on those who take refuge in you.
    20 In the shelter of your presence you hide them
        from all human intrigues;
    you keep them safe in your dwelling
        from accusing tongues.

    21 Praise be to the Lord,
        for he showed me the wonders of his love
        when I was in a city under siege.
    22 In my alarm I said,
        “I am cut off from your sight!”
    Yet you heard my cry for mercy
        when I called to you for help.

    23 Love the Lord, all his faithful people!
        The Lord preserves those who are true to him,
        but the proud he pays back in full.
    24 Be strong and take heart,
        all you who hope in the Lord.

  • “From Imaginary Friends to Beautiful Saviour: A Journey in Prayer” by Ruth Leigh: 7 Ways to Pray blog series

    What a moving account by Ruth of moving from a prescribed prayer life to one of freedom and grace. I’m sure you’ll be encouraged by her blogpost. You might consider spending a few moments charting out your own prayer journey, in the fashion she illustrates.

    One of my earliest memories. Two little hands – mine pressed together, my eyes squeezed shut. I’m about three, in Sunday School at prayer time, sitting at the front. I turn round, craning my neck to see my three special friends. They never sit behind me, where all the big children go. They’re always standing together in a group by the wall, ready to come over if I need them.

    No-one else can see them. They are my imaginary friends, Charles, Jenny and Ruth.

    I know all about Jesus, who is also my special friend. I can’t see Him, but there are pictures of Him around the room, His kind face smiling at me. I am glad He loves me and I like singing the songs about Him loving all the children of the world, me included.

    Until the age of fourteen, when I turn my back on church, my prayer life is ordered by others. I’ve been taught that Jesus is always listening, but at home, we parrot the same grace before each meal and say the same prayer before bed every night. Freestyling is not encouraged.

    When I become a Christian aged twenty-six, I renew my acquaintance with Jesus. I start to pray in what I hope is the correct way, thanking him for what he’s done for me, interceding for others and only at the end of my prayer asking Him for what I need. I’m still a child, copying what others do and trying to be good. I haven’t yet realised that He wants me to be extravagant and honest with him, to pour out my heart and invite Him fully in.

    Aged thirty-five, I have a mini-breakdown. I am struggling with undiagnosed depression and my way of dealing with it is to pack my life with achievement. Sitting in my office in London, I burst into tears, overwhelmed by all the things I have to do. Desperate, I consult two close friends at church who suggest that we pray into my unhappiness.

    To my amazement, words of knowledge, verses of scripture and prophecies come pouring from these two ladies. God knows me, He knows what I need and all I have to do is ask.

    Here I am in my new writing studio aged fifty-five. I wake every morning to spend time with my Saviour and I ask Him for protection against the enemy. Fears and anxieties and demons swirl around me but I am safe, covered in prayer. Once upon a time, I would have read these words and been utterly baffled, but now, finally, I know even if I can’t see my Friend, I can feel the warmth of His love through prayer.

    These days, the words that fly up to Heaven are mine and it’s more of a conversation. I hope that the second half of my life is more about freedom in praise and prayer – I don’t put my hands together and squeeze my eyes shut these days, and I haven’t seen my imaginary friends since my sister was born, but the comfort of knowing that I’m never alone nestles deep in my heart.

    Ruth is a novelist and freelance writer. She is married with three children, one husband, assorted poultry and a kitten. She is the author of The Diary of Isabella M Smugge, The Trials of Isabella M Smugge and is currently writing The Continued Times of Isabella M Smugge. She writes for a number of small businesses and charities, reviews books for Reading Between the Lines and blogs at ruthleighwrites.co.uk. Ruth has abnormally narrow sinuses and a morbid fear of raw tomatoes, but has decided not to let this get in the way of a meaningful life. You can find her on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and TikTok at @ruthleighwrites and at her website.

    Order 7 Ways to Pray here, including in the US, UK, and Australia. You’ll also find lots of resources for small groups – videos and a leader’s guide – here.

  • Praying with a Painting: Let it rain

    An evocative watercolor of people dotted around with umbrellas in the rain.
    By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.

    In the typical fashion of island weather, I’m sitting here enjoying the sunbeams streaming into my study. But this morning I walked to the gym in pelting, cold rain. It was a bit miserable, the experience at least woke me up.

    I love this painting of Paris in the rain by my dad. He says it’s a large canvas and as it met with my mother’s approval, it hangs in their kitchen. I find it so evocative.

    Might you use it as a springboard for prayer? Here are a few verses from Scripture (the NIV) you could ponder as you pray:

    Sow righteousness for yourselves, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the LORD, until he comes and showers his righteousness on you. (Hosea 10:12)

    “You heavens above, rain down my righteousness; let the clouds shower it down. Let the earth open wide, let salvation spring up, let righteousness flourish with it; I, the LORD, have created it. (Isaiah 45:8)

    As the rain and the snow
        come down from heaven,
    and do not return to it
        without watering the earth
    and making it bud and flourish,
        so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
    so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
        It will not return to me empty,
    but will accomplish what I desire
        and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10–11)

  • “Creative Ways to Pray” by Anita Kelly: 7 Ways to Pray blog series

    Anita offers some wonderfully engaging creative ways to pray. I love how she involves her body in praying and worshipping God, and how she outlines the practice of slowing down to pray with a passage of Scripture through coloring. I hope you’re inspired to try something new.

    Being able to go on retreat has really helped me to connect with God on a deeper level, particularly during lockdown. A friend, a member of the Lay Community of St Benedict, leads an annual creative prayer retreat, usually at Worth Abbey. Then lockdown hit, so retreats have moved online instead. These were such a blessing that a monthly online creative prayer group was formed, connecting Christians across the UK and Europe.

    Discovering Worship through Sign Language

    As a visual learner I’ve found signing songs a powerful way to come closer to God in sung worship, particularly when we were unable to sing in church throughout lockdown. It somehow engages my heart more with God’s and adds another dimension, other than my brain, to worship. I’ve only learned a handful of signs (and sometimes made up my own!) but this kind of worship has helped me through the ups and downs of the lockdown. God moves and blesses us as we use our bodies to express ourselves to Him. Some churches have embraced this signing during worship, some long before lockdown began, and not just in the kids’ songs, making church more accessible to all. We’ve also learned how to sign the Lord’s Prayer and the actions can be more thought-provoking and visually expressive than saying the words alone.

    Bible Journalling as a Way to Pray

    Art can also be a way to express our prayers to God, drawing out our praises or what we’re thankful for. As Amy touches upon in her chapter in her book, 7 Ways to Pray, on praying with the Bible, creative Bible journaling has also opened up a new way to meditate and pray through illustrated bible verses. As I colour in the different parts of the pictures, God may show me something new about that word or verse, and the colours I choose may be symbolic of what I see, e.g. red for Jesus’ blood poured out or blue to represent the Holy Spirit.

    We were sent some icon pictures to colour in at the 2021 online retreat. The one I was drawn to was Rublev’s icon of the Holy Trinity. Whilst staying at a retreat centre, I was unsure where this story came from in the Bible, so looked it up. Having found a relevant book on this icon, I discovered the passage was from Genesis 18:1-15. Abraham greets 3 strangers who visit his tents and invites them to a meal. It mentions the Lord as one of the visitors, but by inference Rublev interprets them as God the Father, Jesus the Son and the Holy Spirit. The way that each one looks out towards the viewer, invites us to take a seat at the table where they sit. As I contemplated this, I imagined myself sitting there with Them, I poured out my heart to Them, as They listened and talked with me. It was a chance to just sit and be in God’s presence, away from the hubbub of life for a while. An opportunity for some Ignatian prayer, too, as I imagined myself in the picture.

    Today, is there a new way you can be creative in your prayers? YouTube has some signed worship songs, e.g. God Is my Refuge by Kat Mills. Why not choose one to watch and have a go at signing too as you worship? Or try Bible journaling, listening to God as you colour and contemplate His words? You can look online for a relevant Bible journal picture/ words to colour if you don’t have access to a Bible journal.

    Anita Kelly is a mental-health awareness trainer and writing-for-wellbeing facilitator. She lives in North West London and blogs on Christianity and mental-health issues.

    She discovered her love of writing whilst completing an MA at Kings College London and is writing her first book, a mental-health memoir. As a creative, she enjoys writing, doodling and going for walks in nature. 

    Order 7 Ways to Pray here, including in the US, UK, and Australia. You’ll also find lots of resources for small groups – videos and a leader’s guide – here.

  • “Learning to Listen” by Jo Acharya: 7 Ways to Pray blog series

    How can we hear God? Jo Acharya shares helpfully how she’s been making space for God through silence, minute by minute at first. I especially appreciate her explanation of how she’s been learning to discern when it she’s hearing God and when it’s ‘just her’.

    In prayer, as in life, I’m a talker. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had conversations with God – by which I mostly mean one-way monologues from my lips into his endlessly patient ear. There’s some value in this. It’s helpful to process my thoughts in God’s presence. But no relationship can thrive when one person does all the talking. A sheep needs to stop bleating in order to hear her shepherd’s voice.

    God has all kinds of ways to get through to me, of course. But lately I’ve started bringing short times of silence into my time with him, to create intentional space and invite him to speak.

    Silence is hard. In the beginning I only managed two or three minutes. Pitiful, I know, but I found I didn’t know what to do with it. Think about God or not think at all? Accept the thoughts that come to mind or push them out? As I’ve practised it’s become easier, and the time has stretched a little longer. The quiet is like a bath for my mind. A sweet pause, a ‘save and close’ for all the tabs I have open on the computer in my head. I think silence is something I’ve craved without knowing it.

    As I sit, the clutter gradually moves to the sidelines and makes way for something else. For someone else. And the truth is that when I give God my focused attention, just for those few minutes, he usually does speak. Into my mind will come a line from a song, or a snippet of scripture. These are like clues from a treasure hunt. When I read the full passage or lyrics they come from, relevant themes often emerge which guide or answer my prayers.

    Sometimes words or sentences come into my head. These I find difficult to distinguish from my own thoughts, which used to bother me. Are they really from him, or from me? But Paul says in 1 Corinthians 2:16, ‘We have the mind of Christ’. I suppose the longer we walk faithfully with God, the more intertwined our thoughts become. Perhaps in these moments, things I have already learned and absorbed are simply brought to mind by the Holy Spirit at work in me. In his book, How to Pray, Pete Greig suggests evaluating what we hear from God with two questions: ‘Is this like Jesus?’ and ‘What’s the worst that could happen if I got this wrong?’ I find that reassuringly sensible advice.

    But there’s still something unnerving about this process. Dallas Willard observes in his book Hearing God that that many of us ‘fully intend to run our lives on our own… The voice of God would therefore be an unwelcome intrusion into our plans.’ I know that one part of me is nervous of what God might say, and another part is afraid he might not say anything at all. Those twin fears: What if I hear something? What if I don’t? unsettle me each time I sit down to listen, and sometimes they get the better of me.

    And yet I keep going. Because I do want his guidance and his encouragement, his correction and help. So I continue these faltering steps to make space in my busy day and my even busier mind. And I listen for the still, small voice of the one who knows me better than I know myself.

    Jo Acharya is a writer and music therapist who is passionate about inviting God into every part of our everyday lives. She lives with her husband Dan and posts regularly on Facebook and Instagram. You can read more of Jo’s writing at ValleyOfSprings.com, where you can also buy signed copies of her new book, Refresh: a wellness devotional for the whole Christian life, an interactive weekly journal with beautiful photography by Dan.

    Order 7 Ways to Pray here, including in the US, UK, and Australia. You’ll also find many resources for small groups – videos and a leader’s guide – here.

  • New Online Resource! The Prayers of Jesus

    Looking for resources for Lent? Last year we released an interactive small-group resource called The Prayers of Jesus, published by Waverley Abbey Resources, in which we explore 6 of the 7 prayers of Jesus in the gospels. It gives you the tools for leading the session, such as prayers, activities, background on the particular prayer of Jesus, discussion questions, and a prayer activity for the group.

    And this year we’ve put together an online resource for you! Here’s an introductory video.

    You can’t tell from the photo above, but I was shivering as we taped a lot of the course at the 1400 year old ruins of Waverley Abbey. It’s a gorgeous thin space, and made an amazing setting. But chilly and drizzly!

    The six sessions include:

    • Session introduction
    • Exploration of the prayer with Micha Jazz (these discussion are AMAZING and a huge added bonus!)
    • Prayer exercise
    • Closing comments

    You can use this course with your small group or on your own. You can register your interest here with Waverley Abbey; it should be available next week. I pray it will help you meet with Jesus!

    If you’d like to get copies of the small-group guide from me, here’s my discount plan:

    1-6 copies, 16% discount, £5 each plus postage
    7-9 copies, 21% discount £4.75 each plus postage
    10 or more, 25% discount, £4.50 each plus postage

    If you’re not in the UK, I’m happy to send it to you, but postage might be prohibitive.

    May praying the words Jesus prayed enrich your faith in him and love for others.

  • “Praying When it Hurts” by Liz Carter: 7 Ways to Pray blog series

    Watching Liz Carter during the pandemic via social media moved me as I wondered how she coped with shielding even from her own family over so many months. How did she not lose hope? One way was praying through worshiping, as she outlines in her powerful post. I’m grateful she shares with us the wisdom gained in the trenches.

    The last couple of years have hurt, haven’t they?

    For some of us, it’s been a time when we’ve felt like God hasn’t been around much. We might have suffered loss: bereavement or poor mental health; sickness or simply sadness at what has been happening around us; the polarised response around us.

    Many of us have found prayer more difficult, with gatherings restricted and the effects of the pandemic on us as individuals. I had to shield for many months, living with long-term lung disease, and I struggled. I knew that prayer upheld me, but it was just hard.

    I’d like to share today one particular way to pray I have found helpful – and transformative. I want to especially commend Amy’s book 7 Ways to Pray, which spoke into my life at a time I was finding prayer more difficult than ever, with some extremely challenging things happening in my own life. If you haven’t read it yet, do!

    Praying through worship

    We often separate worship and prayer. In church services, we have times of worship and times of intercession. But I’ve discovered something incredibly powerful about worship: it can be intercession. Last year, I was trying to pray about a certain situation, but I couldn’t find the words. I simply didn’t have the strength. But one morning, some of the lyrics in a particular worship song spoke clearly into my life:

    ‘I raise a hallelujah, with everything inside of me
    I raise a hallelujah, I will watch the darkness flee…’

    (Raise a Hallelujah, by Bethel Music)

    The song goes on to encourage us to keep singing, even when we are in the middle of the mystery, even in the midst of fear, to sing louder than our unbelief and to see the melody we are singing as a weapon against the darkness around us. For me, these words packed such a punch because I couldn’t see my way out of the darkness and fear, I was trapped in the mystery and prayer left me grasping for words that did not come. I began to sing along, and became aware that I was praying, and my prayer was a deep one. I was praying these words over people I was praying for.

    I continued to do this over the following weeks, finding a new sense of liberation in both worship and prayer. I listened to lyrics in a much more present and focused manner. In a time when I had nothing left, God intervened with a way to pray that not only renewed my prayer life, but also drew me closer to God as I prayed.

    Nothing new under the sun

    Over the centuries many believers have expressed their prayer through worship – from plainsong to the great hymns of praise, from worship choruses to poetic spoken word set to music. The Psalmists prayed with song all the time, and they prayed out all their feelings – their joys and their laments. I’ve always loved the Psalms as a place where we can find such honesty and raw sadness, decisions to remember what God is doing in our lives, and calls to keep praying despite the pain. Psalm 42 is such a song of extremes – lament, remembrance and praise, and for me it is a Psalm that touches the wild depths of me, the places deep down where pain smoulders and tears gather. It’s a Psalm that speaks when I am in great physical or mental anguish, speaking honestly of the writer’s sadness:

    Why, my soul, are you so downcast?
    Why so disturbed within me?

    And then the Psalmist states his intention to keep on putting his hope in God:

    I will yet praise him,
    My Saviour and my God. (v5)

    I’ve found those words ‘I will yet praise’ to be an explosion of power in my own life, and when I apply them within a prayer setting in worship, their potency is all the more vivid. And it’s not only that it feels like a good idea – I’ve seen God answer prayers in some incredible ways, even though they were not even prayers that I created. When we pray with intention through worship we join in with the work of God. We are noticing what God is doing, and then partnering with God in that moment.

    It’s not that singing along to a song will immediately make us feel better. It’s more that, as with the prayer practices Amy shares in her book, we take that moment and make it about connection with God. We find God in what is happening in worship, and we apply that outwards to the situations we are burdened with.

    Finding hope amid pain

    For me, intercessory worship has been a beautifully hopeful part of a life of pain. When I am struggling for breath and bent over with pleurisy, I can’t always find words in myself. But when I listen to a song, I can catch the wider mystery of a God who works through so many different things, who weaves these things through our lives to encourage and uphold us.

    I’d like to finish by sharing a prayer for those of you are finding prayer is hard because you are hurting.

    For those who live under pain and darkness,
    know the hope that is an anchor for your soul.
    For those who live in brokenness,
    know that love stronger than death
    has already shattered the darkness.
    For those who live under hurting and sorrow,
    know that instead of mourning there will be joy,
    instead of despair a garment of praise,
    instead of ashes a crown of beauty. Amen.

    Liz Carter is an author and poet from Shropshire. She writes about the difficult and painful times in life, and how we can find gold in the mess. Her books Catching Contentment and Treasure in Dark Places are available in online bookstores. You can find her at www.greatadventure.carterclan.me.uk. She’s signed a contract for her next book with The Good Book Company, coming 2023. She’s just brought out a new prayer journal which is filled with verses and poetry about creation.

    Order 7 Ways to Pray here, including in the US, UK, and Australia. You’ll also find many resources for small groups – videos and a leader’s guide – here.

  • Happy birthday, BRF!

    Being interviewed by the Rev Kate Bottley at Wycliffe Hall for Songs of Praise.

    Happy 100 anniversary to BRF, the Bible Reading Fellowship! (Scroll down to learn how to win a copy of The BRF Book of 365 Bible Reflections.)

    Today, BBC1’s Songs of Praise will feature a programme on “The Power of the Bible,” including an exploration of this wonderful ministry of BRF. I’m delighted to be part of it, including meeting Alison Taylor from New Zealand via zoom, when we chat about how God used one of my notes in New Daylight during a time of crisis. It airs at 13.15 and will be available on iPlayer afterwards – I think, however, that only people in the UK will be able to watch it. You can watch a clip here.

    It was in 2008 that I received an invitation to contribute to New Daylight – my first commission for Bible reading notes. Little did I realize that I was landing on my favourite type of writing, or that a decade later I would have published over 1000 of them in various forms. I’m so grateful. I love writing for New Daylight and Day by Day with God – they remain firm favourites.

    The BRF Book of 365 Bible Reflections: A centenary celebration cover photo

    Would you like to win a copy of the wonderful BRF 365 Book of Bible Reflections? I have one to give away, and will announce how you can win in my newsletter on 1 February. If you don’t receive my monthly missive, you can sign up here.

    Happy birthday, BRF! I look forward to continuing the celebrations with you in 2022. Grateful to be associated with you all.

  • “Falling into God” by Keren Dibbens-Wyatt: 7 Ways to Pray blog series

    I simply adore Keren’s description of contemplative prayer. She shares how she’s come to practice centering prayer – focusing on God while giving herself to him. And how he meets her so lovingly in this practice. I love her grace-filled advice about what happens when the mind wanders too. I highly recommend her book, Recital of Love; she carries on the tradition of contemplation from friends such as Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and Julian of Norwich. It’s a gift for me to share this with you today!

    When I first began giving time to God as an offering, just ten minutes a day to begin with, I had no idea the practice of centering prayer existed, or that it might be Christian. I was simply sick and exhausted by my chronic illness and fed up with coming to God with torrents of words, requests and intercessions. 

    This didn’t seem like the deep or rich relationship that Jesus spoke of. When he asked the Father for something, it was clear that this was because of their relationship, not the sum of it. I wanted that. So, I closed the door, my eyes and my mouth (Matthew 6:6). 

    Centering prayer is essentially about staying still and silent, quieting your mind, letting your thoughts go and focusing on God. One thing many teachers recommend on beginning this practice is to have a prayer word to focus on, or something to bring you back to God when your mind wanders. Whilst this is fine, as is using the Jesus Prayer (Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner) to recalibrate, I would rather advise those starting out simply not to worry about what the mind is doing. It’s going to chatter away, especially to start with. We are not used to being still or quiet. We are not used to not being the focus.  

    As Martin Laird tells us in Into the Silent Land (the first book of his wonderful trilogy about contemplative prayer) to worry about all of that which is passing by is like a mountain being concerned with the weather. Clouds are gonna cloud. Just let them. When we give time to God, he is doing something wonderful whether we know it or not. As with all God things, not much if any of it is down to us. All he needs is your yes.  

    Yes, Lord, this time is yours. Yes, Lord, this heart is yours. Yes, Lord, this will is yours. Do as you please.  

    As my practice has developed, what I have discovered is that no effort beyond setting time aside is required. No concentration. It doesn’t make any difference how tightly I close my eyes. This is not a wishing well. Also, although I’m centering God in this process, his centre is everywhere and circumference is nowhere (as St Bonaventure described it). It makes more sense to me to consider centering as only the beginning of the process, as a gateway into contemplative prayer. It is more like falling than finding a centre. We fall into God.  

    Keren is a gifted artist, as you can see in her painting, which I share with her permission, “Scarborough Fair”

    A more helpful analogy for me is understanding the presence of God as what St. John of the Cross calls “a sea of love.” God is like water running beneath and through all things, and we let go of ourselves and drop into that deep, vibrant, moving flow.  

    In that contemplative place, we find connection, not only to God and his creation, but to the deepest parts of ourselves, and to others. It is like being part of a synaptic network. We can suddenly sense and see our place in the universe.  

    At the same time as we relinquish our egotism and see our smallness, we discover we are utterly beloved and held close to God’s heart. And that everyone else is too. That we are all together and one in his love. “He (Christ) is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” as Colossians 1:17 puts it. Or as Julian of Norwich wrote, “The love of God creates in us such a oneing that when it is truly seen, no person can separate themselves from another person.” It is wonderfully affirming to know.  

    Spending time in this place means I can be joyful about the success of others, I can hold their pain and suffering before God with more empathic grace, and I can also allow God to nurture my own giftings, knowing they are meant for sharing. In these deep places we are sometimes given visions, seeings, understandings, we might be led into intercession, or gently corrected on our perceptions or behaviours. These things are not so much sought as given. In that place, everything is grace. This deepening prayer connects all of us within that “oneing.”   

    The only thing I regret about giving God those ten minutes a day was that I didn’t begin sooner. And the only thing I would warn others embarking on contemplative prayer about is that you might love it and its source so much, that ten minutes will grow into far more.  

    Keren Dibbens-Wyatt is a chronically-ill contemplative, writer and artist. She has a passion for prayer, poetry, story and colour. Her writing features regularly in literary journals (Fathom, Amethyst Review, The Blue Nib) and on spiritual blogs (Contemplative Light, Godspace). She is the author of the book Recital of Love (Paraclete Press, 2020). Keren lives in England and suffers from M.E., which keeps her housebound and out of the trouble she would doubtless get into otherwise. 

    Order 7 Ways to Pray here, including in the US, UK, and Australia. You’ll also find lots of resources for small groups – videos and a leader’s guide – here.

  • Praying with a Painting: Clouds of Glory

    Sing to the Lord with grateful praise;
        make music to our God on the harp.

    He covers the sky with clouds;
        he supplies the earth with rain
        and makes grass grow on the hills.

    Psalm 147:7–8

    Photos on social media of all of that snow in the States sparks memories of tromping joyfully in the freshly fallen wonder of it all. The snowfall comes with challenges too—such as power outages. That’s life, isn’t it; glory and beauty and challenge and hardship, all wrapped up together.

    Why not take a few moments to ponder some words from the Psalms and use my dad’s painting as a way to pray? Let your eye fall where it will as you ask God to lead you in prayer. Turn over the words from Scripture in your mind and heart. Rest and know that the God who set the world into being loves you.

    [Image: By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved. A watercolor of blues, whites, and black featuring evergreen trees and swirls of clouds.]