I had moments in my past where I could really feel the power of prayer.  I could go in my room, close my door, prostrate before God and pray.  I would feel God’s presence and know that He is listening to my every word.

There were times that I could play any Christian music and it will uplift my soul.  I could listen to Christian music for hours on end and feel the love of God envelope me.  Those were ecstatic moments and I miss it.

What am I doing wrong these days?  Could this be the truth about levels of prayer?  I remember reading something to the effect that we encounter different levels of prayer in our lifetime.  The first level is the experience I’ve described above.  And they say that as you grow in prayer, there would be times when you won’t even feel anything at all.  A feeling as if you’re talking to a brick wall.  It feels like every word you utter has no meaning.

My cousin once told me that St. Theresa of Avila went through these levels.  At one point, you will reach a level where you won’t even have to say a word anymore.  You can simply sit in silence and you will feel the presence of God.

I need to get back down on my knees in prayer.  I have so much to pray for.

I pray for my friend’s child of 2-years old who died in his sleep last week.  I pray for strength for his parents who’s going through the pain of losing a child.  I pray for my brothers and sisters and their children.   May they be safe always and may they be kept from all harm.

I pray for myself.  I pray for my loved ones who have passed on.   I pray for my family and friends who are ill.   May they be given the healing they are asking for.

Somehow, I have lost my way to pray.  I no longer know what to say and what to pray for.  I seem to have no knowledge in giving thanks to Christ our Lord.  Thanking him for all the blessings He has bestowed upon me.  Thanking him for the lessons he’s given me in order that I may learn a thing or two.

My brothers and sisters in Christ – please keep me in your prayers.  Let God know that I would like to feel his presence once again.  I miss His embrace.  I miss His presence.

God bless you all!

As a teenager, I noticed the difference. I felt like an acorn among a bushel of apples. I didn’t belong. Although I had friends – plenty of friends – I still felt that I wasn’t a part of the group. The only place I felt comfort was whenever I’m inside the church.

You see, the churches where I came from (Philippines that is..) are totally different from the churches here in the United States. Churches are always filled with people even when there is no mass celebration, wedding or baptism. People come to church to pray or simply to be silent and think. Votive lights adorn the altars and whispers of the Hail Mary are heard as you get closer to the people that are in the pews.

The simple truth is, I admired men and it is not acceptable. That is what separated me from my peers. As acceptable as it was in our culture for two boys to walk together with each arms around each other as buddies, I was always afraid that having my arm around a peer that I liked might show some signs that I liked him. I was ever careful about my actions for a slight twist on my wrist would send off signals and I may get teased. The odd thing about this is that none of my peers ever teased me. It was all in my head and I didn’t want to be the brunt of their jokes as they sometimes joked about homosexuals.

I must admit that the teasing mostly occurred at home. My older brothers would tease me because I couldn’t open a jar of mayonnaise, telling me I’m weak as a girl. When I’m asked to do household chores I would hear my brothers say, ‘What’s taking you so long? Only girls take that long to finish what you’re doing!’ Those hurt me the most. The more it occurred, the more I clammed up.

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