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Prayer as I Age
Moses urges us to pray with the same ardor of Jesus, to intercede for the world, and to remember that despite all its frailties,
it still belongs to God. Everyone belongs to God. The worst sinners, the most wicked people, the most corrupt leaders,
are children of God, and Jesus feels this and intercedes for everyone. And the world lives
and flourishes to the blessing of the righteous, to the prayer for mercy.
Community, Love Crucified.
Teaching Manual Love Crucified
2020 (p. 74). Kindle Edition.
Moses urges us to pray with the same ardor of Jesus, to intercede for the world, and to remember that despite all its frailties,
it still belongs to God. Everyone belongs to God. The worst sinners, the most wicked people, the most corrupt leaders,
are children of God, and Jesus feels this and intercedes for everyone. And the world lives
and flourishes to the blessing of the righteous, to the prayer for mercy.
Community, Love Crucified.
Teaching Manual Love Crucified
2020 (p. 74). Kindle Edition.
When I was a young monk in my twenties, Br. Ken’s parents would visit our monastery once a year. I still remember the first time I met his mother in our family's guest house. She was sitting in a rocking chair, gently holding a Rosary. We spoke for about thirty minutes, and I found her to be a lovely, gracious woman. At one point, I asked about her Rosary. She told me that as she grew older, prayer became more important to her, and the Rosary was her constant companion. Most days, she would sit quietly in her living room, slowly reciting its prayers.
Over the years, I’ve noticed this pattern in many older people—men and women alike—who made prayer a priority when they were younger. I once knew a Jewish woman who spent her days repeating the Psalms. Now that I am older, I understand what they were experiencing.
As my energy for engaging with the “outer” world diminishes, my desire to pray and open my heart to God continues to grow. Like Br. Ken’s mother, I find myself craving prayer. The soul breathes when it prays, and as I age, this need to embrace God’s love deepens. My connections with others have also become richer. Years ago, I made Br. Ken’s mother a Rosary with large wooden beads strung on Paracord. She loved it, prayed with it daily, and was buried with it when she passed away.
My recent heart procedure was difficult, yet it brought profound changes and unexpected inner healing. I’m not sure I would want to go through it again, but I know the experience was worth it. It taught me endurance, vulnerability, and the hard truth of mortality. No book could have prepared me for that journey.
Through it all, prayer sustained me. I’ve learned that what feels like God’s absence often hides a deeper experience of His presence. Prayer is not always easy, but the Rosary gives me a starting point—a rhythm and beauty that carries me forward. I pray slowly, because if I rush, the words become mechanical and lose meaning. Others prefer a faster pace, and that works for them. For me, slowness opens the heart.
Prayer also connects me to the world—to every man, woman, and child. It roots me in the present moment, keeping my mind from drifting to the past or future. When I am truly present, even fatigue feels lighter. In the end, prayer helps us adapt to the changes of aging and reminds us how precious each day is. We only have now. Staying rooted in that truth is both a gift and a challenge—and without God’s grace, it reveals our inner poverty.—Br. MD
