I was rushing through the house in the wee hours of a weekday morning, preparing breakfast and lunchboxes. That’s when I spotted my seven-year-old with her mouth wide open, dreaming.
“Are you done praying, Rach? Ready for breakfast?” I asked.
She looked at me, surprised, and gave a sheepish smile. “Ummm, I forgot I was praying and I started thinking about school.”
The battle that is prayer
My little one’s honesty made me smile.
Especially since her experience mirrored some of my own prayer-time battles: the struggle to stay focused, to keep praying when I don’t know what to say, and to be consistent in spending time with the God who never ceases to show up for me.
Why is it so difficult to sit down and pray without wandering into a minefield of thoughts? The Catechism gives us a simple but stark answer: prayer is a battle. (CCC, 2725). We are battling both ourselves — our own ideas, wills, desires — and our tempter (CCC 2725), who certainly doesn’t want us to sit down and have a talk with the Lord.
So what do we do when prayer is hard?
The answer lies in the lives and ways of the saints who faced the same struggles. They show us the way.
Teresa and the wild horses of distraction
One of those saints is St. Teresa of Avila, often remembered as a “master of prayer.” But Teresa was not always a master.
For around 18 years, she battled dryness and distractions in prayer. She described these distractions as wild horses, charging unbridled in every direction. If, like me, your prayer time turns into a playground for the day’s plans or a conversation you can’t stop replaying, you’re already familiar with these wild horses.
Teresa shows us a way to ride them into the sunset — not by suppressing them, but by learning how to pray despite them. Drawing on her own long struggle, she offers us several important lessons:
Teresa does not give us a quick fix. She invites us to understand something deeper:
Prayer is not a performance. It is faithful presence before God, even amid difficulties and discouragement.
Imperfect but faithful
What does this mean for you and me?
It means that we are not called to be perfect in prayer. We are simply called to show up. Faithfully.
To persist in prayer even when we see no change.
To sit in silence with the Lord when we cannot find words.
To gently set aside distractions and return our attention to Him.
But most of all, to show up. And to stay a while with Him. Even when we feel discouraged, unworthy, or distracted.
Because when we choose to do so, we declare that God is at work even in our imperfect hearts. Not because our prayers are great and big, but because our God is.
So as my seven-year-old looked at me, wondering what I would have to say about her prayer drifting into daydream, I smiled.
“It’s okay, love,” I told her. “Just continue talking to Jesus. And let me know when you’re done.”
How about you and I do the same right now? Let’s go talk to Jesus 🙂
In faith,

Faith grows in the little spaces of our ordinary lives, through reflection, prayer, and a gentle turning of our hearts toward the God who loves us.

