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Jesus told His Church–His body of followers–to pray, “Our Father who art in heaven….

(Overly?) Sensitive from my youngest years about being an only child, my friends’ complaints about having to share bedrooms, do without wished-for toys, or wear hand-me-downs didn’t dissuade me. Their “You’re so lucky!” jealous lamentations deeply pained me. …I didn’t want to be an only child. How to begin to explain?

Although I left my friends’ taunts unanswered in words, keeping to myself thoughts of:  Here. Take this. See if I care about any of these things you’re so jealous of, I answered them in works. I distributed my toys to my friends, not to gain their friendship, but to prove to myself, to my parents, and to them that it was siblings, not toys, that I wanted.

Our Father Who art in heaven…

It was in reading a reflection–unfortunately, not until relatively recently–on the Lord’s prayer in which the author noted that the prayer does not begin “My Father” that I had an amazing epiphany!

True! I had always prayed “Our Father,”  and had never—not even once—substituted “My Father.”  No matter. Though I might have prayed verbally in a communal way, the truth is, interiorly, I was thinking and feeling in a unilateral way.

An only child, I never shared my father with any other child. “Our father” was not in my lived familial experience or vocabulary–neither was “my sister” or “my brother.”

Friends, yes. Close friends; best friends—I thought so. But every time there was a Baptismal godparent or matron of honor to be chosen, my friends always explained that surely I understood that our friendship notwithstanding, they “had” to choose their sisters.

I got it. I could never be a real sister, no matter how close I got to others.  And, in addition to feeling sorry for myself, I admit having been angry. It wasn’t my fault that I was an only child. Before I understood that luck or magical thinking had nothing to do with gaining siblings, hadn’t I thrown coins into every wishing well within arms’ length? In addition–Hadn’t I asked? Hadn’t I prayed?

Our Father Who art in heaven…

As an adult, I’ve had a spiritual director advise me to think about Jesus in terms of my only-childhood. Jesus was an Only Child, too. And yet, with God as our Father, no one was more brother–truly Brother to every human being ever born–than He is.

I had never thought of Him that way! Realizing that humanly speaking, Jesus was an only child, too, and yet spiritually, every believer is His brother or sister was healing. Jesus, humanly an only child, based on His spiritual relationship to all humanity, was the first to say “Our Father.” That insight really helped me.

It helped open me up to reducing (but, unfortunately, not fully eliminating) a lifetime of  anger, jealousy, and resentment about being an only child to make room for recognizing, appreciating, and embracing the inadvertent spiritual benefits of my being an only child…

The appreciation of quiet time. The ability to be by myself. The detachment from some (not all!) material things; the preference to be simple in taste–even if I had formed these predilections in early childhood out of spite–to show my parents and the rest of the world  that I didn’t want the things my parents’ money bought for me, I wanted their love, expressed in a sibling.

And once I could thank God for the ways that being an only child had brought me closer to Him, then I could ask to be healed and to be taught to believe that I am part of a church community–not of so many individuals, many of whom are strangers praying, living the Faith in a parallel way–much the way toddlers engage in parallel play—but, truly, as brothers and sisters of Jesus, sons and daughters of the one true Father.

Our Father Who art in heaven…

Am I there? No…Not yet.

But, by God’s grace, someday before I die, I pray that I will be open to the gift the Lord might give to allow me to fully think, believe, and feel a sense of Church as brothers and sisters of Christ, living out the Our Father, and when praying the words “Our Father” to really mean them, to intentionally really live them as part of Church–as a community of believers, united through Jesus.

Amen.   …As I journey on Thursdays and all days, I appreciate and welcome your thoughts and inspirations. Thank you for reaching out to me in prayer and friendship. (Dare I say holy sibling-hood?)

Our Father Who art in heaven…