Some Thoughts on Kneeling to Pray

There is something about kneeling to pray. When I entered Alcoholics Anonymous, I was initially not going to pray. When I did start to pray, I did it standing because I was not going to kneel. No way. Praying felt stupid and awkward to me, there was kind of an empty echo in the room and I did not really know what to say. I also really did not know what I was praying to.

At some point I decided to kneel. I do not remember why. Something motivated me to do that, I’m not sure what. My wife, Lisa, and I lived in a crummy townhouse at the time and my first impression from kneeling was that my knees hurt because the concrete was right under the carpet. I also recall that I kind of felt that kneeling to pray was a very Christian thing to do and I wanted nothing to do with anything that involved Christians.

One of those pads for gardeners to kneel on was very helpful. My knees learned gratitude before I did.

But it was on my knees that I first started to sense that I was not speaking into empty, uncaring air. There was no revelation, no burning bush. I simply had a sensation that I was no longer alone. At first that feeling was quite spooky, and I could feel the hairs on my neck rise and the goosebumps on my arms. Then it become comforting.

Lisa and I were not getting along so well early in my sobriety. She was very angry at the things I had done and that she had not done. I was furious with her; couldn’t she see how tough my life was? I felt very alone, and the time spent on my knees each morning was precious to me because I did not feel so alone at those moments.

Starting each day on my knees, asking for the gift of sobriety for one more day, asking that I be given a chance to be of service, these things set the tone for the day. I am not able to do this on my own. I need help and that help must come from some source outside of myself; something more powerful than me.

It has been about three years since I started kneeling to pray. I can tell you that now that things are calm, now that I do not feel so very alone, sometimes, in fact, more often that not, I don’t feel that special “I am not alone” feeling when I kneel to pray. It’s not that the Goddess is not there.

I think some of that is my attitude. The more casual prayer becomes, the less focused on it I am, the less likely I am to feel Her presence.

Some of that comes from the fact that the feeling of a Presence is a subtle feeling and is easily lost among the clamors of the world around me and the distractions within my own mind.

She’s there though. When I least expect it, She reminds me. Most of the time it is a pleasant experience: “Oh! That was the Goddess!” Sometimes, it is pretty harsh. That usually happens when I am wrapped up in my selfish wants, needs and desires. That is not the result of Her punishing me. The discomfort comes from deliberately walking into a wall She has built.

I don’t really much care if kneeling is a Christian thing anymore. It’s an Andy thing now, and it is all about starting the day knowing that I am powerless, but that I have access to the power.

I’m really a blessed person. I don’t always appreciate it, but I am.