When Saying ‘No’ Becomes A Prayer
When Saying ‘No’ Becomes a Prayer
I’ve come to believe that one of our most powerful prayers isn’t found in ancient liturgies or morning devotions – it’s in the simple, sacred act of saying ‘no.’
Saying ‘no’ to joining the vestry when I joined a new church felt like turning down a dance with an old friend.
After retiring from pastoral ministry, I knew I could do the job well – the meetings, the planning, even the inevitable conflicts didn’t scare me – it was all as familiar as an old hymn.
But somewhere deep in my soul, a quiet voice whispered: ‘What if this season is meant for something else?’
After years of tending to others’ spiritual journeys, my own writing was calling – stories waiting to be told, insights eager to find their way to paper.
Saying ‘No’ felt like betrayal at first, until I realized it was actually a prayer: a sacred affirmation of a new chapter unfolding in my life.
Do-Do-Do
These days, the invitations to ‘do-do-do’ never stop coming.
They slide into our email, pop up on our phones, flood our social media: join this online workshop, sign up for that virtual book club, attend this global meditation circle.
Even in our small New England town, the local requests to volunteer pile up just as quickly – each one wrapped in good intentions and community spirit.
We joke about it, how saying ‘yes’ to one thing somehow puts us on every committee’s contact list.
But beneath our laughter lies an uncomfortable truth: many of us have turned ‘yes’ into our default setting, as if saying ‘no’ might somehow make us less valuable, less connected, less responsible.
Saying Yes to the Sacred
But what if we’ve got it backwards? What if every ‘no’ could be a ‘yes’ to something sacred?
When Moses encountered the burning bush, he wasn’t meandering through the desert checking items off his to-do list. He had space – physical and spiritual – to notice the holy ground beneath his feet.
When was the last time you noticed what was beneath your feet?
Boundaries we create with “No” aren’t walls that keep people out; they’re more like the walls of a cathedral, creating space for something sacred to unfold.
I’m learning that every time I say ‘no’ to rushing through my morning to attend another online class (my Waterloo), I’m saying ‘yes’ to sitting quietly and listening to the snow fall, or birds sing.
When I decline to join three different book clubs (even though they’re all reading wonderful spiritual memoirs), I’m honoring the holy work of finishing my own writing.
These aren’t rejections – they’re reverent choices about how to spend the limited energy and time I’ve been given.
Boundaries as a Spiritual Practice
“The first time I set my phone to ‘Focus mode: do not disturb’my hand actually trembled a bit.
What if someone needed me? What if I missed something important?
But as I watched the sun set that evening, undistracted by the usual ping of messages, I realized I was experiencing something ancient and holy – the practice of creating sacred space in time.
Our spiritual ancestors understood this instinctively.
The Sabbath wasn’t just a day off; it was a boundary drawn in time itself, marking a space where productivity ceased and presence began.
These days, my own small ‘no’s have become like modern Sabbaths throughout my day and week…and life.
No to the constant pinging of notifications – yes to the quiet spaces where wisdom grows.
No to endless availability – yes to being fully present with whoever or whatever is before me.
No to the exhausting cycle of reaction – yes to the gentle rhythm of reflection.
How Do You Explain?
Last month, when a friend asked why I wasn’t responding to her texts right away anymore, I found myself explaining about boundaries.
‘But aren’t you worried about missing out?’ she asked.
I smiled, remembering my own early fears. ‘I’m actually worried about missing in,’ I told her— ‘Missing in’ on the depths of my own life, the whispers of my own soul, the presence of the sacred in ordinary moments.’
I’m discovering that boundaries aren’t just walls we build – they’re more like the banks of a river, giving shape and direction to the flow of our lives.
Without them, we spread thin like water on pavement, evaporating in the heat of endless demands. With them, we create channels deep enough to carry something meaningful.
The Grace of Boundaries
Recently, I ran into a friend at the market who seemed hurt that I’d been less available.
‘I miss our long talks,’ she said, as she loaded oranges into her cart.
The old guilt stirred – that familiar urge to apologize and immediately schedule something.
Instead, I took a breath and shared honestly: ‘I miss them too. And I’ve learned that when I guard my morning writing time, I can be more present when we do get together.’
She nodded, understanding in her eyes.
What I’m slowly learning in my seventies is that clear boundaries don’t distance us from others – they actually create space for deeper connection.
When I say no to social dates during my creative hours, I can say a fuller yes to afternoon conversations.
When I decline evening commitments, I have more energy for tomorrow’s meetings with friends.
It’s a paradox: setting limits actually expands our capacity for meaningful presence.
There’s a kind of grace that comes with age, a permission to listen more carefully to our own rhythms.
Gratitude for No’s
As I sit at my desk and watch the sun rise each morning, I’m grateful for the ‘sacred no’ that carved out this space for writing.
Each boundary we set is like a quiet prayer: a declaration of what we value, what we’re called to do, and how we choose to spend our precious days.
Perhaps it’s time to listen more carefully to those moments when our spirit hesitates before saying ‘yes.’
What if we viewed each ‘no’ not as a door closing, but as a threshold opening to something deeper?
The next time an invitation arrives – whether it’s another committee, another obligation, or another ‘opportunity’ – try pausing first.
Notice what stirs in your soul. Is this yours to carry? Or is this a moment for a sacred ‘no?’
How to Say ‘No”
Start small. Choose one area of your life where you feel overextended.
Practice saying no to what depletes you so you can say yes to what nourishes you.
Remember: every boundary you set is an act of respect – both for yourself and for the true gifts you’re meant to share.
Recently, we explored the delicate balance between rebellion and strength in aging.
Today’s reflection on boundaries continues that journey, inviting us to discover how our carefully chosen ‘no’s can become some of our most powerful prayers.
What sacred ‘no’ is waiting to be spoken in your life?”
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