I've long been of the opinion that the best way to school oneself in prayer is by actually praying. After all, baseball players learn to hit fastballs and curveballs and sliders by, well, trying to hit them. Studying pitches doesn't get you very far; you've got to step up to the plate. Now I enjoy the occasional book on prayer. Richard Foster's book is a great one, off the top of my head. But I find that reading about prayer oftentimes distracts me from the actual subject of study. I end up with my nose in a book more than my knees on the ground.
Besides that, the usual prayers I was brought up with were of the generic "Lord forgive me this and give me that" variety, with a healthy dash of "heal or comfort or protect so and so." And the focus of prayer was awfully heavy on saying stuff. We said it extemporaneously, "led by the Spirit," and did not recite things from rote memory like those Episcopalians who don't know how to pray without their book. We (Methodists and Baptists in my past) felt we had prayer down. I now confess we don't. And I don't.
For one, most of us evangelical Protestants don't have a real sense of the depth of prayer. Once we learn to stand in the kiddie pool, we tend to stay there for the rest of our lives. Second, we don't know how to shut up. "Be still and know that I am God" is a verse we stitch on stuff but don't dwell upon and let live within us. Finally, we tend to reject the accumulated wisdom of the Great Tradition before us, that great cloud of witnesses with dirty knees. What they learned as a habit, we learn as a piece of trivia. Pastors are especially bad at this: we collect more quotes about prayer than actual prayers. But there are a few of us, even Baptists, who are turning back to those great books of prayer alongside those about prayer (thank you, Episcopalians).
Here's a quote that recently settled the matter for me: I don't how to pray. Not like I want to. Not like I should. It comes from the Desert Fathers, and it reminds me of C. S. Lewis.
The brethren also asked Abba Agathon "Amongst all good works, which is the virtue which requires the greatest effort?" He answered "Forgive me, but I think there is no labour greater than that of prayer to God. For every time a man wants to pray, his enemies, the demons, want to prevent him. For they know that it is only by turning him from prayer that they can hinder his journey. What ever good work a man undertakes, if he perseveres in it, he will attain rest. But prayer is warfare to the last breath.
