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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?