Breath Prayers

I recently watched a collection of reels on my phone where people were harmlessly pranking family and friends while recording their reactions. Hidden away, as the unsuspecting victim came into the room, someone would burst out of a box, jump from behind a door, or simply shout, "Boo!"

The contorted faces, the shrieks, the unmentionable words, the collapsing to the floor, the shock of these instinctive responses always strike me as hilarious for some reason. I laugh loudly every time as I watch them on repeat.

Now hear me rightly. I don't like being pranked any more than the next guy, but there's something so funny about watching an unprepared response in harmless fun.

On the other hand, a friend once shared that on a flight to Asia the jet ran into some significant turbulence. The aircraft pitched and suddenly dropped, catching everyone completely by surprise. Terror filled shrieks deafened the cabin. The expletives, the cursing, the guttural language would have made a sailor blush.

Yet sitting beside him was a little old lady yelling, too. Only she wasn't shouting profanity. She was screaming, "Jesus, help!"

You know, there are seasons and experiences in life that strip away our ability to find sophisticated words. Fear can do that. Grief can do that. Exhaustion can do it too. In these moments, whatever is closest to the surface quickly comes out.

I think that the most honest prayers may be our shortest ones. "Jesus, help!" is one of the most profound prayers a person can pray.

These short prayers carry deep truth with genuine feeling. Throughout history, some have called this simple speak "breath prayers." In times of pressure, they can act like a spiritual survival technique, steadying the heart and soul by gently tethering us back to God Himself, reminding us of what is unbreakable.

I doubt that little lady was intentionally practicing a "breath prayer" in that terrifying moment, but it proved that her heart had been well practiced before. "I was surprised at how many people screamed expletives, yet this little lady cried out hope," my friend said.

When prayer becomes like breathing, it becomes a life-giving rhythm woven throughout the day

Jesus said, "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks" (Matthew 12:34). That's a little convicting, because I'm often surprised by what comes out of my own mouth in unprepared moments.

Prayers like these are so simple that even a child can practice them, yet deep enough to accompany us our whole lives long. They come quickly. They're not polished or elaborate. They're small, sometimes almost a whisper, hardly noticed, much like the rhythm of breathing itself.

I find that most people don't pray very often, and I wonder if it's because it just seems too simple. Talking to God doesn't have to be complicated.

When prayer becomes like breathing, something we hardly notice, it becomes a life-giving rhythm woven throughout the day.

This is nothing new. Breath prayers reach back to the early centuries of the church, particularly among the Desert Fathers of the third century. Many know this practice through what has been called the Jesus Prayer:  "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me."

I suspect your days are a lot like mine—saturated with noise, filled with distractions, and plagued with life’s anxieties. I've got some uniquely challenging ones, I’m sure you do, too. It’s the common denominator for us all.

However, I’ve found that the simplicity of slowing down, drawing a deep breath, remembering God is near becomes the necessary tether for life.

Recently, I had a group identify the anxiety or fear they were presently most in touch with. Then we slowly read Psalm 23 together. I asked them to notice which phrase or truth resonated most deeply with them and then write it down. The goal was to simplify that thought into a short phrase, a “breath prayer” for their present moment.

Here were a few of the breath prayers they formulated:   

• "Good Shepherd... lead me."

• "Father... I trust You."

• "Jesus... have mercy."

Breathing in while speaking the first half and exhaling the second half, the prayer begins to come alive with every breath in and every breath out. How satisfying to watch such a simple exercise become such a meaningful practice for us.

It's not a silver bullet. It won't remove every burden from life. It won't answer every question immediately. But it does cultivate a focus upon Jesus Himself, and he promises to walk with us in all days.

Real communion with God is found most often in small, repeated acts of remembrance. And what is quietly cultivated on our inside is what bursts forth to the outside in unexpected moments. So, I'm borrowing from that sweet little lady these days: "Jesus... help."

But I'll still laugh my head off at those harmless prank videos.

What are you breathing in and breathing out these days?