You know, so often we think of prayer as something we have to do, like checking a box before bed. So often our prayer doesn’t ever progress past asking for him to help those close to us in difficulty, and that is an important component of prayer. But prayer is far more than protective or healing requests, it’s a conversation. Imagine this: Jesus is sitting right there with you. Not somewhere far away, not in some abstract sense, but here. Right here. What would you say? What might He say back? Sometimes it is best to read a small piece of the Gospels. Then read that same section again. What stands out? Mediate on that. Picture yourself with Jesus after that moment or chapter.

St. Teresa of Ávila tells us that prayer is “an intimate sharing between friends.” And that’s exactly how it works; no perfection needed, just presence. But presence requires intention. Don’t just reach for prayer when you’re exhausted at the end of the day. Pick a spot, a time when your heart and mind can actually engage. Night prayer has its place, certainly, but it’s often best for reflection, for the Examen, looking over your day, noticing where God was with you, where you stumbled, and offering thanks.

And that’s another thing: gratitude. It’s not a side note; it’s central to prayer. When we begin prayer with thanks and appreciation, our hearts open naturally. We start to notice the blessings we often take for granted: family, friendship, the challenges that teach us patience, the beauty that reminds us of God’s goodness. Gratitude tunes our hearts, almost like a musical instrument, ready to receive the divine.

But prayer is not always about speaking. Sometimes it’s about silence. In the quiet, we let God speak to us. The Catechism reminds us that prayer is “the raising of one’s mind and heart to God.” And sometimes, raising your heart means stopping your words, letting the stillness fill the room, letting Him fill your soul.

A country song that speaks to Finding God in the ordinary is Larry Fleet’s Where I Find God. He sings:

“And that day out on the water when the fish just wouldn't bite
I put my pole down floated around, it was just so quiet
I could hear my old man sayin' "Son just be still
You can't find peace like this in a bottle or a pill"

There is something about being on the water in the early morning or at a beach that is hard to describe. The feeling of God’s presence is profound in nature. You can find it during the early morning hours on a back porch, or at a firepit under a clear night of stars. Nature provides a distinct way to find God.

in fact, the car in it’s solitude and ability to make us have to disconnect from the distractions around us can be a great place to thank God prepare for the day and used as time or prayer.

The last thing I will say on prayer, for so long I never asked Jesus to help me with the things I needed his help with preemptively in prayer. It sounds obvious but it takes a persistent voice to focus on the moments when he need him most. It is amazing how effective that can be and encouraging to overcome sin.

Fr. Robert Spitzer talks about something profound: we are transcendent beings. We are made to yearn upward. Our souls are wired for more than the material, more than the here and now. Prayer is our natural motion toward God, our response to that longing. Every word, every silent breath, every glance inward toward gratitude, is a step toward the horizon we were made for.

So here’s the invitation: find your moment. Speak your heart. Sit in silence. Imagine Jesus there. Thank Him. Listen. Let your soul stretch upward. And in that quiet yearning, you discover something beautiful: God is closer than you think, and your soul was made to reach for Him.