For prayer is nothing else than being on terms of friendship with

“For prayer is nothing else than being on terms of friendship with God.”
Thus spoke Saint Teresa of Ávila, the mystic of Spain, whose soul burned with both love and longing for the Divine. Her words, though simple, are as deep as the heavens. In them lies a truth that pierces through centuries of ritual and formality: that prayer is not the murmuring of words, nor the performance of duty, but the living communion of two hearts—man and God, soul and eternity. Prayer, she tells us, is friendship—not fear, not distance, but intimacy with the Infinite.

Saint Teresa lived in the sixteenth century, a time when the Church was heavy with grandeur and structure, yet she dared to speak of God not as a distant king but as a beloved friend. She knew through her own experience that true prayer was not bound to the lips but born of the heart. In her solitude and her suffering, she found a companionship beyond all earthly measure. She wrote that she spoke to God “as one friend speaks to another,” and in this simplicity she found the key to the deepest peace. Her quote arises not from doctrine alone, but from the flame of experience—from nights of darkness when only the voice of God could answer her silence.

To be “on terms of friendship with God” means to live without pretense before the Divine—to bring one’s joys, one’s wounds, one’s doubts, and one’s gratitude with equal honesty. Just as friendship among men is built upon trust, so is prayer built upon sincerity. God asks not for perfect words, but for a true heart. The proud man kneels with his tongue; the humble man prays with his soul. Saint Teresa understood that in such friendship, the soul ceases to beg and begins to belong.

Consider the example of Brother Lawrence, a humble Carmelite who lived a century after Teresa and followed in her footsteps of holy simplicity. Though he worked as a cook, washing pots and pans, he said he felt the presence of God as vividly in the kitchen as others did in the chapel. He spoke constantly to the Divine, not with elaborate speech, but with the ease of friendship—thanking Him for the grace to peel potatoes or to sweep the floor. His life became a living echo of Teresa’s wisdom: prayer is not escape from the world, but companionship within it; it is the art of walking hand in hand with God in every task.

Saint Teresa’s teaching is revolutionary because it restores the warmth of love to the practice of faith. Many approach prayer as an obligation, a formality to appease heaven. But she calls us instead to approach it as one would approach a friend—without fear, without disguise. When we see God as a friend, our hearts open not only in reverence but in tenderness. We can speak freely of our sorrow and our joy, our failures and our hopes, for He is not the judge who waits to condemn, but the companion who listens, who understands, and who loves without measure.

Yet this friendship is not without its trials. Just as every human bond must endure silence, misunderstanding, and waiting, so too does our friendship with the Divine. There are seasons when heaven seems quiet and the heart feels abandoned. But Saint Teresa would tell us that this is the testing ground of love. Friendship with God is not measured by how often we hear His voice, but by how faithfully we remain in His presence even when all is dark. For the truest friend is the one who stays, even when the other seems far away.

Let all who hear this teaching take it to heart: if you would know God, do not seek Him only in temples or in books, but in the secret place of your own soul. Speak to Him as you would to one who loves you more than life itself. In your labor, whisper gratitude. In your pain, offer trust. In your doubt, confess your weakness and listen for His stillness. This is prayer—not ritual, but relationship; not performance, but presence.

And so, Saint Teresa’s words shine as a lamp for all generations: prayer is friendship with God, and friendship with God is the highest joy of man. For those who walk in this friendship, no loneliness can endure, no darkness can conquer. The heart that prays truly becomes the dwelling place of divine companionship—an everlasting conversation between the mortal and the eternal. Live, then, not as one who visits God from time to time, but as one who lives in His friendship always. For in that friendship lies both peace on earth and the promise of eternity.