When Prayer Feels Hollow

I remember a season when even the word “prayer” felt too heavy.

My husband was deployed for nearly a year, and I was home with our sweet 9-month-old, working an insurance job that drained what little mental and emotional bandwidth I had left. Life felt mechanical. I wasn’t angry at God—I wasn’t much of anything. Just numb.

I drove the same winding road to work each day, the kind that hugs the river and curves with no warning. I began to fixate on the idea of another car suddenly crossing the line and hitting me head-on. It wasn’t a death wish. It was just… habit. That daily moment of imagining impact became a strange comfort—because it would mean the spiral could stop. I wouldn’t have to keep pushing forward.

To this day, when I take that same drive, my mind still tries to pull me back into those shadows.

I liked the idea of being close to God. I even went to Adoration. But I kept Him at arm’s length. I didn’t want to be vulnerable. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to crack open the part of me that was just barely holding together.

So I stayed numb. Because numb felt safer than breaking.

Looking back, I can see that the Holy Spirit was moving—just not in the way I expected. Friends reached out. Invited me into community. Made space for me without demanding I be “okay.” Their presence steadied me. Their persistence in inviting me out—when my interior life just wanted to dig a hole and throw a perpetual pity party—helped keep the depression from deepening further.

And I kept busy.

I enrolled in online college courses.

I started an in-person fitness instructor program.

I told myself it was growth—but deep down, I knew:

I was staying busy to stay numb.

That season taught me something I’ll never forget:

You can be surrounded by grace and still feel empty.

You can go to prayer and still feel nothing.

And that doesn’t mean God is absent.

What Is Spiritual Dryness (And What Isn’t)?

We throw around words like dryness, desolation, and dark night of the soul—but what do they really mean?

Here’s how the Church and the saints understand it:

• Spiritual Dryness is a lack of consolation—when prayer feels flat, God feels distant, and the soul feels no delight or sweetness.
  
• Aridity goes deeper—it’s when the will itself is numb. You don’t even want to pray.
  
• Distraction attacks the intellect. Aridity attacks the will.
  
• The Dark Night of the Soul is not emotional pain or depression—it’s a divinely permitted dryness that purifies love.
  

“Dryness belongs to contemplative prayer when the heart is separated from God, with no taste for thoughts, memories, and feelings, even spiritual ones. This is the moment of sheer faith clinging faithfully to Jesus in his agony and in his tomb.”

–CCC 2731

“For years, I was more anxious for the hour of prayer to be over than in thinking of God.” – St. Teresa of Avila

Why Dryness Happens

Not all dryness is created equal. It helps to discern the root.

1. Natural Causes

Exhaustion. Illness. Stress. Hormonal shifts. These aren’t sins—they’re part of being human. Dryness during these seasons is often physical or emotional.

2. Disordered Attachments

If we cling to comfort, control, or approval, our souls resist the things of God. The more attached we are to worldly things, the harder it is to rise to supernatural ones.

“Where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.” — Matthew 6:21

3. Holy Dryness

This is the dark night: when God removes spiritual sweetness to draw us into deeper love. He teaches us to love Him for His sake alone.

“When the Lord places a soul in a more settled spiritual way, He draws back His hand in order to make proof of its love—to see whether it serves and loves God without being repaid with spiritual joys.” – St. Alphonsus Liguori

When You Want to Quit Prayer Entirely

This is when the temptation hits:

“Why keep praying if it feels like nothing is happening?”

But the saints remind us: dryness is not failure. It’s formation.

“Often, over a period of several years, I was more occupied in wishing the hour of prayer were over than in thinking of God.” – St. Teresa of Avila

Just continuing to pray—especially when it’s hard—is a powerful act of love.

“Do not lose this desire of prayer if you have it, and if you don’t have the desire—pray for it; you will get it.” – St. Alphonsus

What Distraction Really Reveals

Distractions don’t always mean you’re doing something wrong. But they do show you where your heart and mind are pulled.

There are two types:

1.  Voluntary distractions

These are thoughts we entertain (grocery lists, social media, problem-solving). Once you notice them, gently return to God.

“If in mental prayer we do nothing else but continuously repulse distractions and temptations, the meditation will have been well made.” -St. Francis de Sales

2. Involuntary distractions

These just show up. They’re not sins—but they may reveal wounds, attachments, or priorities that need healing. Even naming them is an act of prayer.

Mental Prayer in the Fire of Dryness

“Mental prayer affects the soul in the same way fire affects iron.” -St. Teresa of Avila (paraphrased)

Dryness makes us feel like cold iron. But faithful repetition—choosing to show up—ignites the soul.

“It is impossible to lead a virtuous life without prayer.” – St. John Chrysostom

Mental prayer isn’t about emotion. It’s about presence.

And presence is what Mary models best.

The Dark Night of the Soul

The Dark Night of the Soul isn’t a moment. It’s a season.

It can last for months—or even years.

This term comes from St. John of the Cross, who described two types of “dark nights” the soul may undergo as it is purified and drawn into deeper union with God:

The Dark Night of the Senses (when the consolations of the senses and imagination are withdrawn)

The Dark Night of the Spirit (a deeper stripping away, where even spiritual understanding is clouded)

These nights are not punishments. They are acts of mercy—God purifying our love so we desire Him alone.

“The soul that is attached to anything, however much good there may be in it, will not arrive at the liberty of divine union.” – St. John of the Cross

Saints Who Endured the Night:

St. Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa) spent nearly 50 years in spiritual darkness after receiving powerful initial visions and locutions from Jesus. She called it “the darkness of faith” and offered her interior emptiness for souls.

St. Thérèse of Lisieux experienced a terrifying loss of faith near the end of her life, writing:

“If you only knew what darkness I am plunged into!”

And yet, she said she clung to the act of faith like a shipwrecked soul grasping a piece of driftwood.

St. John Henry Newman spoke of times when prayer felt cold and mechanical, yet he insisted:

“Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt.”

St. Paul of the Cross suffered spiritual desolation and abandonment for 45 years, yet never ceased his life of prayer and penance.

What They All Had in Common:  They didn’t escape the dark night by praying harder or forcing spiritual feelings.

They endured it—with humility, trust, and unwavering presence.

They stayed.

Even when they felt nothing.

Even when prayer brought no comfort.

Even when God seemed completely silent.

They understood what we often forget:

Love is not a feeling.

It’s a choice to remain faithful, no matter what.

The Marian Mindset That Changed Everything

For me, the Marian shift came when I stopped trying to “fix” the dryness.

And I started letting it form me.

Mary didn’t cling to feelings. She clung to faith.

She pondered. She waited. She stayed.

I began doing the same.

How to Persevere in Dryness

Here are the three pillars that helped me the most—drawn straight from the saints and spiritual masters:

Recollection

• Keep God in mind during your daily tasks
  
• Use breath prayers: “Jesus, I trust in You”
  
• Place visual reminders (crucifixes, icons) in your home
  

Detachment

• Examine what you’re clinging to (comfort, productivity, control)
  
• Fast from unnecessary indulgences
  
• Choose silence over stimulation
  

Spiritual Reading

• Fill your mind with God’s truth
  
• Read the saints, Scripture, the Catechism
  
• Even 5 minutes a day reshapes the soul
  

An old monastic saying reminds us: “Tell me what you read, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

Final Words of Hope

If you’re in a dry season, take heart:

You are not broken. You are being formed.

God is working in the silence—even if you can’t feel it.

Mary is with you in the stillness. She’s not in a rush.

She knows what God can do with a willing heart that keeps showing up.

“Some, seeing themselves in the state of aridity, think that God has abandoned them. So they leave off mental prayer—and they lose all they had gained.” – St. Alphonsus

Don’t quit. Don’t despair.

Just say:

“I’m here, Lord. And I still choose You.”

That prayer is enough.