Lord, Help My Wild Brain!
You know what I mean when I say that some friends truly understand you. They see the parts of you that make the whole of you. I have a friend from college who not only has a long timeline with me but is also wise and insightful. Perceptive and gracious.
Some of her unique work as a writer in the freelance landscape makes her a wealth of knowledge in particular subjects. One of them is ADHD. Working for a man who is a coach for adults with ADHD, Pam understands the scattered mind so many of us wrestle with throughout our days. Some of us, more than others 🙋🏻♀️.
My brain is like a dog sniffing a sent, yanked about, pulling left and right by one smell after another.
One night, when Pam and I were having dinner, I was carping about the amount of effort it takes for me to accomplish a goal. I am always pushing back the wind. Consistently, I have a new vision, another idea, a wash of more inspiration.
"Dawn, I have wondered if you have ADHD. It's not new; you have had trouble with systems and plans for as long as I have known you."
This wasn't about diagnosing me; this was about understanding what trips me up when it comes to projects, writing plans, my business...and why I end up reading four different books at the same time! 😵💫
Lent is tough for the busy mind.
Understanding our struggles means finding supportive solutions. So what does this little friend-to-friend moment have to do with the fact that we are just entering the first week of Lent? Good question, and let me keep going, lest I forget!
Lent isn’t as meaningful as it should be if we are not able to reflect and sit still. It will fly by like every other holiday. My scattered self makes Lent (and any time I am trying to connect with Jesus) a challenge. I feel it all the time.
However, the season of Lent, the rhythm of the sacraments, and the prayers handed down over the centuries harness our wild, impulsive selves. Think of them like a train track. A guide.
Prayer can be challenging. Whether a busy phase in life, a crisis in your family, trouble with sleep that makes everything harder, anxiety, or a demanding job--getting still and sitting in the presence of God is always a fight. Our minds are like a kite on a high-wind day at the shore. This is why Liturgy is not just a support, it is a gift.
We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord, whose property is always to have mercy: Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the Flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his Blood, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his Body, and our souls washed through his most precious Blood, And that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen (The Prayer of Humble Access)
This prayer first appeared in the Order of Communion in 2020 1548, and was placed in the Book of Common Prayer in 1662. THAT’S OLD! It has stood the test of time, and you can see why. When was the last time words like this came from my scattered mind and disconnected thoughts? Words like this: "I don't presume to come to your Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in my own righteousness, but in your manifold and great mercies"? Never. I have never, on my own, uttered words like this.
Typically, it goes more like this for me:
Lord, I am so tired...help me today...(pause to look at my phone)...Ok, Lord, I feel overwhelmed with my insecurities, help me trust you...(look out the window at my bird feeder and get race outside to run off the squirrels)...thank you for this day, help me with the kids at school...(send the text I forgot to respond to)...Lord, I feel like I don't have anything to offer anymore, help me figure out your plans for me...(drift into the day)
I forget to confess, I forget to give him words of adoration, I forget to express gratitude...The difference is profound. The scattered mind, the running around every which way, the technological interruptions, the long list of things to do...prayer is an inch deep for most of us.
But we have been blessed with well-crafted, thoughtful words from others grounded in the ocean of Scripture. These words lead us into focus. They direct us, and as a result, we learn to pray, we begin to settle, and we connect with the Lord in a way we were designed to.
Noise, rush, and the fragmented attention leave us out of sync with the Spirit of God.
Lord, teach us to pray, we have no idea how to do it…
Jesus himself provided a prayer when the disciples said, "Teach us to pray."
What an important moment for them and for us. A request we should ponder again and again.
“This, then, is how you should pray: “‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.
Recently, I have been saying The Lord's Prayer more regularly; I pause as I go:
What about the Kingdom of Heaven do we desperately need here on earth right now? What about his will do I need to specifically pray for and align with given my independent nature? What daily bread do I need? What fears are coming up that cause me to forget he gives me daily bread? How is the temptation of self-sufficiency pulling on me? What evil is having its way, and how can I pray against its power?
Thoughtful words have the potential to mature us spiritually, relationally, and emotionally. I thank the Lord for those who have written down prayers that have lasted for decades.
These prayers don't replace my personal words, thoughts, and gratitude before God; they enhance it. They lead me into robust and thoughtful confession, praise, and thanksgiving. Our prayers are all too often thoughtless and rote. We are not typically connected with what we are saying, and like everything, we go fast and check it off our list.
As you go through Lent this year, use the ancient resources handed down. When you can’t pray, search out the prayers of those who have gone ahead of us. Turn to the Psalms and pray them out loud or listen to them being read over you. I have come to appreciate the Lectio 365 app; it may be a good one to try.
I will close with a prayer by Thomas Merton. I am quite sure all of us could use this prayer as we live out our days in unpredictability and, sometimes. fear of the future.
“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”