"Have you tried praying about it?"
A question I always found myself nervous to answer; how was I supposed to say it? Defensive and without much thought, I would answer, "yes."
My friends and family that are reading this may find themselves surprised by this statement- I just started praying regularly again. I know, I should be better, and the power of prayer, and whatever else we hear all the time. I guess that although I've always considered myself a very spiritual person, I also constantly found myself overwhelmed at the thought of talking to God, and kneeling on the side of my bed. All these things I wanted to pray for suddenly became so difficult to articulate, and my mind would draw blanks at every attempt.
Guilt-ridden, I began opening up to a select few of my friends, including my Godmother, Auntie, (who is the brightest light in my life), and my spiritual sister, Brittany (who probably won't read this for 5 more weeks because she's serving on a mission trip. Hey Britt.) Both of them suggested keeping a prayer journal. They said it was easier to spill your heart on a piece of paper than just talking, and that it was tangible evidence of the power of prayer. They also gave me a few tips on keeping a prayer journal, like keeping a rotating list of people to pray for instead of having a giant list. At first, I was reluctant- I didn't want to admit that I was the problem that I was having problems keeping my faith in check. But I decided, what do I have to lose?
The most difficult trial of my life has been my grandmother, Gigi, who has stage IV dementia, and I have really questioned my faith in the past two years as I've watched her transform into a woman that doesn't even recognize me. There's seven of us readily dealing with this, and I've found it difficult to talk about amongst my family and others. Mainly because I want to be strong for Gigi and for my family, but also because we just deal with it in such different ways; most of us can't talk about it without crying, but then there are other people who are just so firm in their faith. I wondered, "how can you watch her deteriorate, and still trust that it's for a reason?"
I was angry. My grandmother, the person I loved and related to the most in the world, was gone. Yes, she is still physically here, but I constantly wonder where Gigi actually is. I have been grieving the loss of a person that is still alive.
Three weeks later, Jesus and I are tight again. I find myself spilling my heart out on those little pieces of paper about things I don't like talking about aloud, and it has set me free. Not free from my thoughts of Gigi, but free from the anger, the impatience, and free from the spiritual chains that have kept me down for the last two years. It turns out, bottling your feelings isn't healthy!
So I encourage you to start keeping a note of people in your life that you want to pray for, including yourself. Try it for a week; see what heights you grow to.
