Today, Pope Francis is calling for prayers to counter
"the diabolical force of hate, terrorism and war" and urging believers around the world to join Catholics in the Holy Land for a day of
fasting and prayer for peace.
Peace. Oh, how we need it. But this morning, as I spent time in quiet reflection on ways to
answer this call to prayer, I was also wondering if it will make a
difference; after all, the problem is so vast and complex and ongoing that the good
intention of a prayer seems like a grain of sand in comparison to the desert before
us.
And then I was reminded of quote from the musical, Hamilton:
“A legacy is planting seeds in a garden you don’t get to see.” While this quote
refers to the legacy Alexander Hamilton wanted to leave our young country, I
realized that replacing the word ‘legacy’ with ‘prayer’ is a way to see how
every prayer is a seed, planted with faith and watered with hope as we wait to
see what it grows into.
There are many answers to prayer—yes, no, yes
(but in a different way), no (because it isn’t what you need), maybe (but you
have to be patient), not now (there will be a better time)—just as there are also many
ways for that seed to develop. It can blossom the way you envisioned, or bloom
into something entirely different, or take root in ways you never thought
possible. The key is remembering that the seed always turns into something.
There is so much we don’t understand about prayer, but if we
acknowledge that God’s ways are not our ways, that his ways are more
imaginative and always perfect, then we also need to remember there is no such
thing as unanswered prayer. We must surrender to this truth no matter what.
So we pray. Alone, with our families, in brotherhood with the
world.
We may not always see the fruits of our prayer seeds, but
the garden is still there.