The regime, or habit of prayer, that is used by the Catholic Church is called the Liturgy of the Hours. Lay persons, oblates, religious brothers, sisters, priests, bishops and even the Pope pray it throughout the entire day. All but lay persons are required to in fact. The Liturgy of the Hours is available in book form and as apps online. It should be used instead of what this nobody shares below.

This nobody, who writes as a layperson, is lazy. He does not do the Liturgy of the Hours due to time. He had to start from a cursory prayer each night, sometimes missing nights, to something repeatable. He had to start somewhere. He had to let God in. He had no spiritual life, or at least it was at best a monolog.

Having set the stage that the Liturgy of the Hours is how the Church does pray best, perhaps this nobody writing down what he is herein, could help someone getting started praying better.

Who knows.

Only God.

Everything started with a Hail Mary, or Our Father, in front of the mirror each morning as Nobody brushed his teeth ; and the same every night. And due to his inability to see his self worth, much less self esteem, he FORCED himself to look at himself in the mirror. He saw he was fat, but looked at himself nonetheless whilst he prayed. He knew he had to hurry to work, because he overslept, nonetheless he prayed. He knew he had to feed his family, and yet he was afraid to ask for help to do so, cause God does not care about jobs -- nonetheless he prayed. There was no productive purpose to prayer, he felt, nonetheless he prayed.

Each morning. Each night. Looking at himself in the mirror on purpose, even when it was hard. On and on it went. Always a Hail Mary, or and Our Father.

Soon the nobody could stand his face in the mirror. It was not so hard anymore. He could even see his own eyes. He was not so fat.

As time went on, he would wipe the mirror and sink for his wife, who was always asking him to be considerate. She did not control him, however. He was his own man. Maybe she would just stop complaining about it, he thought. Or maybe it was just something to keep the peace. Whatever.

After about six months, nobody came across a prayer card of Jesus, Mary and Joseph at the back of Church one Sunday. Nobody and his wife had a child. The picture fit. Nobody looked for a coin slot to pay for it, yet it was free. Nothing is free in this world, he thought. He chuckled, folder the prayer card, in a way that would not hide the Family's faces. He slipped it into his front shirt pocket. It was funny, he was going to Mass each Sunday. Different times from his wife. She would go on Saturday evening. Nobody would go Sunday evening. All cause the baby was so young. It was something you did. You know, go to mass.

The weeks went on. The morning and night toothbrushing prayer continued. Just as long as it took to do his teeth. His prayers were wrote. Yet, oddly, he brushed his teeth slower as weeks progressed. He knew of people that prayed alot more. He knew priests did. But, somehow, he just could not judge himself when he was looking at himself in the mirror. He often would phase out. Especially at night. The toothbrush would be stuck, not moving in his mouth.

His wife's laundry system was, well, not great. He would send down clothes. She would wash them. And only weeks later they would show up again, even at all. He still did not comprehend why some clothes went missing. Literally. The reappear sometime later. However, some wisdom may have rubbed off from above due to his prayers. Namely, he was not dumb enough to complain. He would be stuck doing his own laundry, which would have the advantage of getting all his clothes back that he sent down, but the disadvantage of, well, doing the washing .... and having a wife with a grudge.

That rant aside, the reader will not doubt not be surprised that weeks later that the shirt and the prayer card of the Holy Family showed up one night. Nobody ran into it after brushing his teeth and praying, when it was time to set out the clothes for the next day. He saw the card, which survived the wash without ruining the picture. He stuck The Holy Family in the corner of the bathroom mirror he used each morning so he would not lose it when the shirt dirtied again ... or entered the vortex that was his wife's laundry.

And, indeed, it was seeing the Family in the mirror whilst he prayed looking at himself, which changed things for the Nobody like nothing else had.

... MORE SHALL BE ADDED HEREIN IN NEAR FUTURE ... .

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