“If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, “thank you,” that would suffice.”
– Meister Eckhart
I have absolutely nothing in common with Meister Eckhart: Eckhart who was born in 1260 in Hochheim (Thuringia). He entered the Dominican Order and received most of his education in the Studium Generale in Cologne.
But this quote was a game changer for me.
Life has been my greatest teacher when it comes to prayer. When faced with the uncertainty and inevitable pain of life I found prayer.
I loved my Catholic up bringing. The rituals touched my heart. The soaring joy of the school choir singing the Crimmond in three-part harmony and the oneness when gathered for Mass was beautiful and mysterious and rousing.
Life happens and things change. It was mother’s brain tumour diagnosis and early death which undid me. It was in that darkness I learnt to pray.
I began a very personal daily conversation with God. I pleaded. I begged and was ready to ‘trade’ with God, if I do this would you spare her life. I wanted answers and reasons.
There was no letup in this daily correspondence. There was a constant conversation with God about why he did what he did and how he could do it better. In these moments the pain eased slightly, the darkness lifted a little, and rage subdued a tad. I began to feel there was a power in the universe who was beyond my powerlessness and grief. I sensed that God was listening to me. He didn’t do what I wanted. My mother died on a perfect Spring afternoon in October.
I quietly began to heal, to feel other feelings, not just frozen numbness.
I began to say, thank you for all the sweetness that was there all around me, the soft pink clouds of sun rise and the yellow, yellow of Sulphur crested cockatoos. I noticed the gentle scent of Cecil Brunner roses and the dancing blue of Sydney Harbour. Slowly, oh very slowly I realised that I liked praying. I enjoyed sharing my fears and doubt and dreams with God.
Gratitude melted my numbness. I was grateful my mother was my mother. Thank you, God, well done.
Virginia Ryan