Running Thoughts: Do You Pray Anymore?

"God don't ask you what you done, God ask you what you gonna do"

This weekend I watched The Piano Lesson on Netflix.

I put it off for a minute because although I love seeing Black siblings and their connections on film, a touch of the trauma creeps up when I watch. Watching their relationships unfold in whatever way they do is incredible, but then, the thoughts of what I never got to experience in my siblinghood come up, and I want to reach for the remote.

I continue to watch—perhaps in an attempt to heal the wounds in my heart—but it’s a reminder of what was absent or incomplete in my family dynamic.

Ava Duverney's Queen Sugar is one of the best depictions of Black siblings in Pop Culture. I thought about it while watching The Piano Lesson because they have throughlines to each other, one being that both sets of siblings must decide what to do with what’s been passed down to them.

The Bordelon siblings in Queen Sugar (Rutina Wesley, Kofi Siriboe, and Dawn-Lyen Gardner) have to figure out what to do with an 800-acre sugarcane farm, while The Doaker siblings (John David Washington and Danielle Deadwyler) in The Piano Lesson fight about the fate of an engraved piano.

Even though the film takes place in the 1930s and the series is far more modern, they are facing something that I feel like we as Black American Millenials still deal with today, trying to figure out how to honor our history while defining ourselves outside of it.

That struggle of holding on to what was given to you without being trapped by it is real. The show and series are explorations of family history, love, and generational trauma. It’s about those moments where we decide what parts of our story we carry forward and what parts we leave behind. All while navigating the complexity of our connections, our past, and the things (and people) we’re willing to fight for.

The other throughline is Christianity—specifically prayer. The first prayer I ever learned is said in The Piano Lesson by Berneices daughter, Maretha (played by Skylar Aleece Smith who is a pianist IRL) as they get ready for bed one night:

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take

God Bless…

Skylar Smith as Maretha in The Piano Lesson. Brian Douglas/Netflix © 2024

I remember being a child on bended knee, wrapped in my tattered but somehow still fluffy robe, reciting these words to an entity I didn’t fully have an understanding of. Asking him to bless my mother and father, my brother, my fish, and my favorite teachers. Followed by a list of all the things a child deems important—for my favorite show to come on the next day or for my parents to PLEASE take me to McDonald’s.

I watched Maretha pray in The Piano Lesson, I thought about how much my relationship with prayer has evolved since I was a kid.

As a kid, I was taught to pray a certain way, soft and respectful, the same way I was taught to be with the adults in my life. I was also taught to fear God. I was raised in a Christian household by a father who had more respect for God then he did for anyone in our home, so that then trickled into how I was taught to approach God when I wanted to come to him. I felt like I had to approach with caution, with the right words and perfect humility.

I grew up.

And while the reverence for God is still there, my “fear”“ of him has changed.

Now, the connection feels different—less about following rules or being scared, and more about being honest, even if that means expressing stuff like doubt or frustration. My mama constantly says, "Talk to God how you want to" and if the whole "come as you are" thing has any weight to it, then God should understand why I’ve been a little pissed when we talk lately.

Samuel L. Jackson as Doaker Charles in The Piano Lesson Courtesy of Netflix

I’ve been mad about my health, frustrated with family issues that seem to never end, angry about the state of the world, upset about losing opportunities, pissed about people stealing my work, and just fucking exhausted.

I’ve carried so much weight for so long that when I pray now, it’s one of the only times where I don’t feel like I have to present my “best” self. It’s a place to not have to pretend I have it all together when I’m barely fucking holding on.

I wish I’d been taught that when I was first being introduced to religion. There is so much I wish I’d been taught earlier when it comes to religion, but my thoughts on The Black Family and Christianity (specifically Southern Baptist) is reserved for another piece and time lol.

As an adult, it feels more like a conversation as opposed to some perfectly memorized monologue to perform nightly. I’m too grown to ensure I come to him with the sweetness and beautiful ignorance of a child like Maretha. Instead, I come with the intensity of Berniece and my ancestors, blended with the hope of Hollywood. I talk to God with my feelings and ask to be understood, heard, and not punished.

I’ve realized that prayer—for me–is about showing up as I am, and trusting that the words that leave my mouth and the asks that leave my soul will lead to something real.

The Piano Lesson was a beautiful portrayal of the type of connection I wish I had with my own sibling, even with it’s tension and disagreements. It also captured how a tangible heirloom can be more then something like wood and keys, but it can represent the memory and love of the family that came before you.

I haven’t come across that tangible thing that will link me to the future, that I can pass down to my children, but when I do, I hope it does more than just endure. I hope it deepens what is already a strong and loving foundation that they have created for themselves. And I hope it brings them closer, and ties them to their history, their ancestors, and each other.

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Extras:

that’s all.

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