Praying in your own Fashion

Every Sunday morning I go for a run and pray. As I’m in the middle of Mother Nature, witnessing her spectacular beauty, I say thanks for being strong and healthy enough to run the six or seven miles. For all the amazing opportunities that came into my life that week. For my home, food, and ability to give back.

I visualize how I want certain events in my life to unfold. I say a blessing for my family and friends. And I think of the ways life has challenged me and wonder what I learned from it. This is how I pray. This is my church.

Every now and again, a cyclist will come by shouting “On your left!” It usually startles me so much, I instantly want to jump in their way, completely defeating the purpose of the interruption to my prayer. I¬†scowl¬†and wonder if that person would do the same thing as they enter a pew in a church. “On your left! Don’t move Grandma!” I doubt it. But I’m pretty sure they don’t realize I’m praying so I forget it and whisper a big “thank you” to the cyclists who don’t shout at me.

On my run yesterday I was startled like never before. I got back into my¬†picturesque¬†suburban neighborhood with golf courses and sprinklers foutaining over big lawns. A man was walking his dog unleashed. It was a giant lab that dashed over to me and jumped on me. I shook my finger at it and shouted “Down!” To which the owner said, “He’s ok. You don’t have to act crazy!”

I replied gently saying that I’ve had dogs bite me before, so I don’t like to take the chance. And he replied “Just keep running you crazy woman!”

I was completely taken back. I said he should have his dog on a leash if it jumps on people. He said “Go away and God Bless!”

“So you want to bring God into this? Why?” I asked.

“I went to church today,” he said. “You should try it.”

This hit me like a bricks. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to reply “Not if it teaches me to behave like you!” Part of me wanted to explain that I was in church. Instead I said some stupid thing like “Yah, well, you should go back!”

By now his dog was in the middle of someone’s golf game and he had to run after it. And I went home, for the first time ever, fearful of my neighbors.

I have lived in some very rough neighborhoods in Washington DC and in London and not once did I have a person on the street harass me. I saw a lot of things on those streets, but never a stranger calling me names or casting judgement. I was suddenly glancing out my windows, locking down everything, keeping the phone close.

My views on religion and spirituality are topics I avoid on my blog. They are a personal choice and a privilege. My ancestors sacrificed and had to live underground to celebrate their religion how they see fit. Because of them and so many others, we get the sweet freedom of choice.

However you pray, be proud of it. Please don’t judge others if they found a different path. As long as we’re all heading in the same direction, does it matter? At the end of the day, it’s what is inside of us that counts. Not who sees us in church.