O God of the silent darkness, in which we sometimes feel ourselves lost, hearing instead of your voice only the echoes of our own prayers: remember the garden in which your Son prayed, and let the wings of the Spirit bear the sweet scent of his orisons to your nostrils, that we, the substance of the savor he sent up, might find access to you, through Christ our Lord. Amen.
For music: “Love’s Echo,” from Patrick Hawes’s “Song of Songs” suite:
By Common Consent, a Mormon Blog 
Jason, thanks for these. Unless you are recycling, this is a lot of work. I appreciate.
Also, “hearing . . . only the echoes of our own prayers” puts me in mind of Romans 8:26 (“we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered”) God-in-me teaching and forming the prayer is a full of wonder thought.
That’s my favorite verse on prayer, and one of my favorites period. And let’s just say that the work of writing these is an important part of my Lenten practice :) I’m glad that you find them meaningful.
I love that verse. It connects for me very closely with Nephi’s musings on the speaking with the tongue of angels.
Sometimes all I can do is sit silently and hope He hears my heart. This is beautiful. I am a day behind, but still loving them.
That’s all most of us can do, cat.