Teaching on Prayer
We pray actively at all times. There is truly no moment where prayer is absent. Prayer becomes the unbroken communion with the heart’s foundation and support. In this way we are always in prayer when awake, and always in prayer even in sleep, entrusting ourselves to the animating Presence who intercedes on our behalf. We speak of the Greatest and Holiest — the Holy Spirit — who animates, moves, and even utters prayers through a sleeping and yielded vessel.
The prayers never cease. Life becomes a constant dialogue, an ongoing and ever-evolving conversation in our awareness. We learn to perceive the breath of prayer the way we perceive the breath of life. We are no longer shocked by sudden needs to pray, because prayer has become the very glue that binds together the whole of our being — the resin that holds the cracked pottery of a dust-formed vessel like us.
We abide in continual communication and knowing. Rarely is there a voice but our own as we direct our inner thoughts — and at times our whispered outward ones — toward the Father. Creation sometimes bears witness without a word, because spiritual intent is understood without sound. Still, when witness is given, we speak, that the Father’s Name would be glorified in manifold ways at all times.
The Father loves to begin with the smallest grain of sand and let it move a mountainside. He uses the least so the strong may see that the work was not done by human power, but by the One who was before all things. We are prayerful witnesses, interceding on behalf of the saints in light across the world.
We pray for others as we would wish to be prayed for. At the Source all things are manifest — nothing hidden except to be revealed. Prayer becomes relationship with the Father: first Friend, first Love, the One we keep returning to. We come to Him so often that even the idea of sleep feels like a small grief, because it forces us into subconscious prayer. Yet when our eyes finally close at night, our last thoughts are of Him.
Each night we ask the Father to grant good sleep, to guard us from the evil one, to minister to us even in dreams, and to wake us with renewed hunger and thirst for Him. We ask that any dream meant for prayer would be brought to mind. And when we wake in the night — at strange hours, with sweat or chill — we turn our hearts immediately toward Him, not in fear but in joy for yet another chance to choose Him again. Then we drift back to sleep.
Our life has become a living liturgy. A walking prayer. Any sight, sound, voice, person, or topic becomes part of the interior dialogue — the refining work of learning the heart of God through praying with Him. We live awake. We do not need to step aside and kneel every time, because our soul is always kneeling within. Even while driving, the dialogue continues beneath everything.
If you ask what we will do tomorrow, we answer, “If God wills it.” We have prayed our way into a continual channel of revelation — not showy, not performative — a familial relationship that bears sorrow and suffering. We are still crushed at times, make no mistake. But now the crushing produces prayer as the first response, revealing a changed nature in the heart.
If you dislike a greedy person, pray for them — not only for their greed to be healed, though it may begin there, but for the person they are. Pray to understand the layers of their soul. Always pray into existence what you hope to see formed within yourself.
If we have despised someone, as we all have, we begin with a choice: the choice to pray toward forgiveness. We prayed our hardened heart back into flesh, not through our own power or glory, but through using what God gave us: choice, the Spirit’s power, and the will patterned after Yeshua the Beloved. We need only ask that the ugliness be uprooted, and the Father will begin the work in us if we truly desire it.
Prayer is life. It is not optional. Prayer is constant and internal — a dialogue with eternity, with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, weaving our soul into ever more intricate patterns of love.
These are my musings. Take what rings true.