I said last week that I was going to try to start to pray again, so I did. The simple words I articulated were ‘God help me pray’. They were what came to mind, so they were what were spoken.
There’s been cause for prayer this week…and I have prayed. And in honesty I can’t tell if those prayers have been heard let alone answered. Not in some vague, ‘maybe the answer will come’ kind of way, but very real needs in very real circumstances for which the ‘maybe it’s meant to be’ thing just doesn’t cut it.
I’m still trying to figure this out at the moment. On the one hand I’m at peace over it, on the other I’m kind of angry. Maybe I was expecting too much, maybe my ‘lack of faith’ was the core of the problem. I don’t know.
It’s not going to stop me trying. If nothing else I feel like I have to hold God accountable for those promises about asking/seeking/knocking…not that I’m trying to be a spoilt child who is angry because he hasn’t received something he wanted, but because I do still believe despite the doubt and confusion. And I’m a stubborn bastard.
Hope still exists even when all else makes it seem like it has vanished.
Another dark night to walk through…