Aching is Prayer

Today I prayed.

Conversations of spirituality understandably raise an eyebrow. We assume that any confidence in the divine says something about a person’s politics or inner demons. Perhaps we assume they are conservative, refute science or are misusing faith to escape personal accountability. I reject that, especially as a bleeding liberal.

When we talk about spirituality, the queer community deserves the utmost respect and sensitivity, especially for the immense harm inflicted by those who abuse faith. Prayer belongs to anyone who seeks it.

Prayer can look like guttural, heavy sobs or a whispered, “thank you” to whomever you speak to. Prayer is simply standing bare and surrendering the rest. You just need to be yourself.

I prayed because my heart groaned for it. Aching is prayer and it petitions for us more authentically than the most exquisitely constructed sentence.

Maya Angelou once said that we can be a rainbow in someone else’s cloud. For me, honest prayer is the vehicle to become a rainbow. In the valleys of my life, I’ve prayed to find meaning by allowing those experiences to make me more loving, more forgiving, and more compassionate. I mess up all the time, but I try to be a rainbow in someone else’s cloud.

In the seasons of life where you soar, or those that bring you to your knees, let your heart sing earnestly. That is the real you peeking through.