My first experience at real prayer was in the first grade bathroom at St. Philip Catholic School.
The classroom was located in the basement of a very old brick building. The windows opened up to a view of an alley in-between the school and the gym. Not much natural light came through.
The bathrooms were located across the hall, which was long and dark and cold. There was a room off to the side that sat empty. At one time it might have served as the lunchroom, but now it sat as a living testimony to silence.
I was not an outgoing kid at school and didn't live near any of the other kids in the class. It felt like I was in a school full of strangers.
So, quite often the bathroom breaks the nuns built into the school day caused me to remember that I really didn't want to be in that school.
One day I was in a stall, sitting on a toilet, and felt overwhelmed. So much so that I couldn't get off the seat and go back to class. I waited until all the other boys had used the bathroom but I still felt stuck.
Out of no where, I began to pray.
It was a very simple prayer: "Dear God. I don't want to go back to class. Help me!"
And God did. Almost as soon as that prayer came out of me a sense of relief fell.
I pulled up my pants, got out of the stall, washed my hands and hurried across the hall to rejoin my classmates.
The odd thing is, I don't remember being especially thankful at that moment. I should have been because the response to that prayer was immediate and tangible.
In fact, looking over my life since then, there hasn't been very many other prayer experiences that match up to it.
Not much thought went into that prayer.
It came from a six year old's desperation. It came from a child's ability to trust and hope that God would somehow help. It was a prayer that was uttered at the very moment that an answer was necessary.
Now that I think about it, I wonder, why don't I have more prayer experiences like that?
Is it because my expectations have been lowered by an adult's perception of reality? Is it that as the disappointments in life mount up it becomes harder to maintain high levels of faith and the subsequent hope and trust that flow from it?
As we mature does our imagination become divorced from the rest of our brain? Do we all, at some point, graduate to grown-up thinking that substitutes suspicion and skepticism for trust?
What I've come to realize is that faith is the foundation for trust. I can't have faith in someone that I don't trust. And I can't trust someone that I don't know. It's as simple as that.
So, the strength of my faith is dependent upon the depth of relationship.
No or little relationship equals no or little faith.
What did Jesus say to Peter when he accepted the Son of God's invitation to join him in walking on the water? Peter stepped out of the boat but quickly began to sink. And God's Son looked at him and said, "Oh, you of little faith. Why did you doubt?"
At the moment that Peter took his eyes off God's Son and looked at the waves, the waves became bigger than his relationship. In that moment, the doubt gobbled up Peter's ability to trust.
But, at least Peter had enough of a relationship to call out, "Lord, save me!"
That's what happened with me in the boy's bathroom in first grade. I was sinking fast, but at least I trusted God enough to pray out the exact same thing that Peter did.
You can too. Any time you need it.
What a relief!
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