A Gift, not a Chore

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Katie Diltz ’10 M.A.
Assistant Director of Echo, McGrath Institute for Church Life


I am a detail-oriented list-maker. I currently have three different to-do lists scattered around my desk. And I’ve been known to write already-completed tasks on a list just for the satisfaction of crossing them off.

Although my organizational strategies and my ability to efficiently accomplish tasks can be very helpful for getting my work done, they can also cause me to have a narrow focus. I have to actively remind myself to take “big picture” breaks, to stop and look at the larger purpose these detailed tasks are serving and to work toward that larger goal rather than for the sake of crossing items off my lists.

For better or for worse, this detail-oriented, list-making tendency has carried over into my prayer life as well. I have quite naturally slipped into the habit of treating prayer time as something to be crossed off my daily to-do list. I noticed this most profoundly when talking with my spiritual director about my daily prayer routine.

For a few years now, I’ve gotten into a good morning prayer routine. I have found that setting aside time during the day doesn’t work for me and I’m usually too tired for any sort of thoughtful prayer at night, so morning it is! Although getting out of bed can certainly be a challenge, I find the quiet darkness of the morning to be a good space to sit and be with God. Not to mention, sitting quietly in prayer is a much better way to begin my day than waking up late and running around trying to get out the door on time.

When my husband and I got married in August, my morning routine was suddenly interrupted. I felt self-conscious trying to enjoy my quiet prayer time with someone else around. So, I stopped waking up early for my prayer time and cut down my morning routine to the “essentials” required to get ready for work. I wasn’t setting aside time for prayer throughout the rest of the day, and I began to feel the effects of not beginning my day with God.

I brought up my daily prayer woes to my spiritual director before Lent. I was convinced going into this conversation that the only thing that needed to change was the time I woke up each morning and the order of my morning routine (wake up and pray before anyone else gets up!), but he helped me see how my to-do list mindset had crept into my prayer life.

My morning prayer time has typically included reading the daily Mass readings. But, truth be told, I was reading them quickly and inattentively to cross them off my mental morning to-do list. My spiritual director suggested that I read much more slowly, stopping and praying with any words or phrases that stick out to me, a variation of a prayer style known as Lectio Divina, or “divine reading.” He recommended setting a time limit (about 20 minutes), and not worrying about getting through all of the day’s readings.

That was the part that struck me the most—I don’t need to finish the readings! When God’s Word catches my attention or strikes me in a particularly relevant way, I can spend time with that. I don’t need to rush for the sake of completing the task. The “big picture” task at hand is to spend time in prayer with God, to get to know God better through his Word. I was so focused on accomplishing my prayer, on finishing the readings for the day, that I was neglecting the very reason I was praying.

By approaching the daily readings in this way, I have been struck on many occasions by God’s Word. I don’t have big revelatory moments every day, but this conversion in the way I approach prayer has helped me to connect more deeply with the Scriptures and to be more aware of God’s action in my life. I’m certainly not perfect and still struggle to get out of bed most mornings, but I have learned to approach my prayer time as a gift rather than as a chore. I can still cross prayer off my mental checklist, but that is no longer my primary reason for rolling out of bed while the house is still dark and quiet in the morning; I wake up to spend some quality time with God.