
Growing up in our house, prayer was non-negotiable. Before meals, before bed, and before tests. My mother prayed before she turned the ignition. Every single time. Backing out of the driveway to grab milk? A petition went up. Driving less than a mile to church? Another one. I rolled my eyes the way Hamlet brooded, often and at length.
I figured Mom was a soft touch for superstition. A nice lady with a nervous habit dressed up as theology. Turns out the habit was sound — and the theology even sounder.
You are not emptying the mind. If anything, you are spilling the contents before a higher power who already knew what was in there.
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A recent study published in Religion, Brain & Behavior by researchers in Ireland
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