For some reason, family prayer can be difficult. Carving out time in a day and gathering everyone into the same room seems particularly hard. It was hard when my wife Ashley and I had only three kids. It seems perfectly impossible now with sixteen. But even in the face of the difficulties, we still manage to gather and pray, no matter what.
Set Reasonable Goals
We tried morning prayer years ago. As the kids were eating breakfast and I was ready to head out the door for work, we would all pause there in the kitchen and pray the Angelus. It was a great way to begin the day and was important for my children to see the last thing their father did before leaving for the day was praying with them. Come to think of it, I’m going to start this up again.
But as the kids get older and schedules get busier, we’ve altered our prayer time to an evening Rosary. My wife and I set a goal of praying all together four times per week, and most weeks we hit our mark. You might ask, “Why only four times a week?” It’s because it’s an attainable goal. With everyone coming and going, seven nights just simply won’t happen. We wanted a reasonable goal that we could actually hit and not get discouraged if we didn’t, but even then, it’s hardly a pretty picture.
If you’re anything like me, I’m sure at some point in time you’ve had an image in your head of your spouse and children all gathered, kneeling down quiet and peaceful, as you pray together with piety and humility. And if you’re anything like me, you quickly realize this isn’t anything like reality.
Bless This Mess
A typical Gallagher family Rosary entails the two-year-old chewing on the beads, two others fighting over a spot on the couch, while internally I am sighing in frustration as the younger kids lobby to lead a decade but struggle to remember the words to the Our Father. Certainly, it is adorable. But I also want to go to bed. Those are the calmer nights. More often we’re praying as the kids finish their chores, shouting prayers over the vacuum or even holding up a phone so the oldest can join in from the car on their way home. The reality is that our house isn’t a monastery. We’re not saintly monks and nuns—we’re a family. And what I’ve found is that, even though the piety lacks, even though the distractions rage, we are still together, still praying to our Heavenly Father.
Something beautiful happens when we pray, no matter how loud, no matter if someone hit someone else. Our youngest ones will sit and play, but they’ll whisper. They are using their church voice in our own home because they know that something sacred is upon them. And in the heart of our prayer time, a sort of calm does come over us all, no matter how brief. It’s as if somewhere in each one of us, past all of the noise and dust of the day, we all recognize something important is happening. Something beautiful is taking place, and we’d better pay attention.
I am sometimes haunted by a line from the Gospel of Matthew, where Jesus tells His disciples, “And in praying do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their many words.” Because most of the time, that seems like all we are doing. Mechanically babbling prayers as fast as we can so we can be done with it and on our way. But still, we’re doing our best most days. My wife and I strive to lead our family prayers with piety and hope the kids will get it. But no matter if our prayer is mechanical or heartfelt, it is prayer nonetheless. It is the Gallagher family mite, as in the widow’s mite in the Gospels. These disheveled and flimsy prayers are all we have to offer Our Lord. But I believe He sees great value in them.
Thankful For All Things
Perhaps more important than our evening Rosary are the prayers I say with the kids before putting them to bed. I’ll ask them: “What three good things are you thankful for today?” And they’ll rattle off their answers. But I’ve started throwing in a follow-up question for them. I ask next, “What three bad things are you thankful for today?” And this one usually makes them stop and think for a moment.
Like all of my kids before, just the other day our four-year-old asked me, “How can you be thankful for something bad?” And therein lies my opportunity to teach her the most important lesson she can ever learn.
We are thankful for all the good that comes to us in our day-to-day lives. But God also wills the bad stuff to enter our lives (never, of course, desiring us to sin). Whether it be an argument with someone, the car breaks down, loss of a job, etc., suffering in our days is more often than not a remedy for some spiritual ailment. God is the Divine Physician. He prescribes bitter medicine for us to swallow. Although we might not often see this at first, blinded by frustration and pride as we are, God allows suffering in order to foster growth for our souls. But why must we ignore this fact of life? Why do we not talk about it or learn this until we’re adults? I find it important to ask my kids these questions to teach them to be thankful not only for the good, but for the sufferings as well. This is what the saints figured out! God brings us difficulties to help us grow in accord with His will.
The English author Rudyard Kipling said it best in his poem “If” which he wrote for his son: “If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster / And treat those two impostors just the same…”
I am always struck by this phrase—“those two imposters”—because, it’s true. Both good and bad are imposters, they are the extremes of a balanced scale of life. And yet, we praise God only for what we feel is good (usually the immediate good at that) and only whine and complain about the bad. But in prayer, we can get to the bottom of it. We can alter our thinking, leave behind our will, and pray for the grace to align our days with God’s will.
This is what I think about when it comes to family prayer. It’s not some perfect image of a pious and holy family. It’s chaotic, it’s messy, but it’s still beautiful. Whether it’s a whole Rosary with all eighteen of us, or just me and my seven-year-old thanking God for the good and bad, it is prayer. Both the big and small moments are most important.
A FATHER PRAYS
I get up at 4:30 a.m. most days and pray the Divine Office. Then I pray for my family, starting with my wife and then each of my kids. I ask God, “What do they need today?” I try to take a few seconds for each person. And something always hits me like a bolt of lightning. I can see what it is they need, and I pray for them. It gives me something like a to-do list, as I try to help and guide each of them as the head of the family. I strive to give myself to every single one of them, every single day.
I’ve only recently realized just how important it is to pray from the perspective of a husband and a father instead of simply myself. While my own personal relationship with God is extremely important, praying as the head of my family helps me to get past self-centeredness and unnecessary introspection.
It forces me to ask, “What is the spiritual life of the head of the Gallagher family?” My prayers must match my position. Praying as a husband for my wife, as a father for my children places me outside of myself. It forces me to think and act differently. For example, it is much different when the president makes a statement as the head of the country as opposed to himself as a man. Or when you receive spiritual guidance from your pastor, not from a priest as a friend. In the same way, when I pray as the leader of the Gallagher family, it is to align myself with God’s will, in order to help guide my family to heaven. Because, that’s the point of it all! We are called to be saints, and that is what I want most for my wife and my children.
Yes, our family prayers can be a struggle. Yes, my personal prayers can be a struggle. I’m an impatient person. I want to be done and move on to the next thing. But prayer demands us to slow down and get out of God’s way. As the Southern Catholic writer Flannery O’Connor once said, “I do not know you God because I am in the way. Please help me to push myself aside.”
Prayer, no matter how perfect or imperfect, is prayer nonetheless. It is an outward sign of our struggle to let go of our sinful humanity and strive to grow closer to God. So, pray—with your family, by yourself, at Adoration, or in the car, or while vacuuming. But pray, and pray ceaselessly, as our Lord asks. Soon you’ll see God’s love and grace in both triumph and disaster.
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Image: Photo by Josue Michel on Unsplash
