Prayer Help

I went to bed Friday night feeling bad that my prayer life had become so dry and repetitive during social distancing.  I seem to say the same things to God, as if he's hard of hearing or isn't paying attention or doesn't care to listen to me.  Then, yesterday, Saturday, a group of 6 from my boarding stable went on a trail ride.  It was familiar territory, the city park right across the street from the farm.  It's too hot to load up horses and trailer them to a different set of trails.  I simply headed out with the others, as I have dozens of times.

Along the way, I became aware of all my senses, so I tuned in.  I saw beams of sunshine reaching through the tree cover. I saw a string of people and horses I love stretching out ahead of me.  I saw little purple phlox peeking out of the greenery.  I heard water flowing over the rocky falls and down the river.  I heard chatter and laughter up ahead.  I heard a story of how a conflict at the farm had been resolved amicably.  I smelled the beloved scent of horses, woods, and river.  I felt the sway of the horse I've loved and ridden for 23 years.  She has carried me so many miles she compensates for my crooked back.   Other riders say she tracks to the right, but it feels straight and steady to me. I realized with a start that the whole ride was a prayer, a very rich, detailed prayer of thanksgiving.  

Sometimes the harder I try, the more elusive my holy connection becomes.  Then, when I'm not paying attention or engaged in something else, I realize the veil has been drawn and the holy presence I seek has been there all along.  It's not a matter of trying harder, but of trusting that I will be drawn back in.  It's hard to let go and trust.  I feel much more confident of things that improve when I put in effort, like working in the yard or cleaning the bathrooms.

I am reminded of the hymn, "Taste and See", which has been recorded and posted on YouTube by several wonderful singers.  I like the one featuring Chelsea Esmeier.