It was a crazy week last week. I was crazy. Crazy because I was planning a community event involving, of all things, details, organizing and large numbers of people. Exactly. The stuff of nightmares, right?
I could barely catch my breath, and my prayers came out all gaspy and disjointed, like my soul was all strung-out and needing a little cot to lay down on until I could sleep it off.
The morning I was scheduled for a talk radio segment, I woke up trying to piece together profound and insightful lines that were also hilarious. And yes, it was hilarious, the notion that anything coming out of my mouth could be all of these things. And I finally I broke a little bit and realized mostly all I needed to do was tell the truth, even if the truth was boring and made no one laugh. Also, I remembered the part where maybe God had something He wanted to say through me.
And He gave me a prayer to help with that. I call it the “More of you/Less of me” Breath prayer. It goes like this:
More of you.
Less of me.
And that’s it.
I breathe in, “More of You.” I breathe out, “Less of me.” Sometimes I inhale really big. Like there is lots of “More of You.” And sometimes I have to let a lot out, expelling the last bits of “Less of me.” And I say it again and again and again and again. I say until I am done saying it, which sometimes is a while.
A day or two after getting this prayer and doing it very consciously, I woke up and my first half thought came with my breath:
“More of You.” Yeah! I thought. That!
“Less of me.” Yes.
And so I laid in bed, waking, praying, breathing.
Until I got up.
Sometimes that is what prayer is: you pray and breathe until you can get up.