On Personal Prayer Composed by the One Praying

Everything said up to this point has been said about prayer or prayer-reading with prayers that are ready-made—and though offered with attention and feeling, still composed by others. Must one be limited to this forever? Prayer itself will answer this for the one who prays. Begin to pray as you ought with memorized prayers—and prayer will from the very start begin to take root in the soul, and in proportion to the strength with which it takes root, it will begin to prompt the one praying to raise his own prayer as well, composed in his heart from his own person, according to his own needs. And he, at every prayer-reading, will offer such prayers to God. Thus one’s own prayer in the labor of prayer has an unfailingly fitting place and part.

I already mentioned to you in the preceding chapter (pt. 6) that when, during the prayer-reading, certain words of the prayer being uttered fall upon the soul and occupy it, you should not leave this without attention but should stop at it and pray in your own words about what has occupied your soul. And do so. The same thing happens during the reading of the word of God and of the patristic books beneficial to the soul; it happens also during meditation on divine things—on God’s greatness and all-perfection, on the wondrous works of His creation, His universal governance and providence, and on the most wondrous work of His incarnate economy for our salvation; it also happens in connection with particularly striking and arresting events of daily life—that is, some subject especially strikes the soul, captivates its attention, and prompts it to be lifted up in prayer to God Most High. In all these cases, do not leave without attention the nascent impulse, but fulfill its demand, interrupting for a time the activity during which this occurred.

These sudden impulses signify that prayer has begun to take up residence in the heart and to fill it. For this does not appear from the very first days of devoting oneself to the labor of acquiring prayer, but after a more or less prolonged period. In this lies the testimony of progress in the labor of prayer; and the more frequently such inner impulses appear, the more fully the prayerful spirit fills that heart in which they arise. This ought to culminate in always praying only with one’s own prayer. But this does not happen; rather, one’s own prayer always enters into the ready-made prayer-reading. For they are of the same kind and of the same degree of worth, and if they are replaced by anything, it is by the prayer of contemplative standing before God without words.

Note that sometimes in such cases only an impulse toward a certain prayer is generated, while at other times the impulse and the prayer itself are generated together without effort on the part of the one praying. In the first case, you yourself must compose a fitting prayer; in the second—only attend and not hinder the prayer proceeding from the heart. Here I will remind you: do not let yourself be tempted by the desire to compose your own prayers without the aforementioned inner impulse and constraint. You may compose a very intelligent address to God, but it will not be a prayer—only a combination of words and thoughts without the spirit of prayer. Do not do this. You will not be able to avoid vanity and self-conceit, and these offspring stifle true prayer and suppress it.

As for the prayer that forms itself in the heart together with the constraint born within it to pray oneself about a subject personally concerning you and particularly needful for you—sometimes it is properly your own production from those prayerful elements gathered in the heart through assimilating and memorizing ready-made prayers, and at other times it is produced by the action of God’s grace. In such cases it is the beginning or the germ of the spiritual prayer I mentioned to you in chapter 47. When you begin to be granted this, it will mean that you are approaching the limits of the perfection accessible to you. Give thanks to God then, and on the path of life begin to run with still greater fear and trembling. The more precious someone’s treasure, the more fiercely the envious eyes of enemies are kindled.