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I was feeling under the weather. As Ben and I cuddled under the cool comforter beneath us, I could tell the seasons were changing. More than the time changes typical blues, I could feel a cold coming on.
Anxiety rose in my chest and my mind. There’s nothing I hate more than growing ill. It’s something I can’t control. Nevertheless, it bothers me. Slows me down. Brings confusion and discomfort.
Isn’t it for all of us?
In the stillness, I flipped open the page to our daily devotional. We hadn’t been super consistent in reading one as a married couple, but we were trying. The cooler temperatures outside made it easier, however. Darker shades causing night to fall earlier instilled a sense of habit.
The devotional touched on not allowing bitterness, sin, or hatred to build up in one’s heart. Our heartfelt conversations and confessions ended in a prayer. A prayer that Ben wanted me to say for each of us.
I was caught off guard.
Do You Struggle To Pray?
“You don’t want me to pray,” I noted.
“Why not?” He asked gently, caressing the hair in my eyes to the side.
I shielded my eyes from his vision. I didn’t necessarily mean to, but I was ashamed of my answer. I felt like I didn’t know how. I didn’t have the strength, energy, or drive. I felt embarrassed. Weak. Weary. Worn. Famished.
How did I get here? I asked myself, shaking my head from side to side.
Why can’t I just talk to God?
In my mind, a chorus of thoughts broke out:
Close your eyes.
Fold your hands.
Bow your head.
Silence the mind.
Can’t I just talk to God?
Don’t say too much.
You’re repeating words.
Does He hear what I say?
Apostles Creed
Did you complain?
Have you thanked Him today?
Can’t I just talk to God?