I guess the Good Christian Thing to do is pray fervently for BJ’s cancer to go away.
But I just can’t deal.
Praying about it means thinking about it.
Praying for BJ to live means I’m praying because BJ might die.
And honestly- I just can’t deal.
You’re giving me more than I can handle.
And I am just surviving.
And there doesn’t seem to be room for you.
I know you can make things better. For me. For BJ. For our future. For our lives.
I believe it, I do.
But every time I sit down to pray, it doesn’t feel official enough.
Ugh I am tired HELP MEEEE
That’s all I can say.
I can squeak out a phrase and then I’m done. My brain is done.
Is that ok, Jesus?
No one ever taught me how to pray when you feel like you can’t breathe. How to pray when you’re sad. How to make room for you when all I want to do is wake up each morning with two people alive.
Jesus, do my blogs count as prayers? Because I feel like I pour more words into them, and into daily conversations with other people, than I do with you. Is that ok?
I think it might be. You’re pretty cool and understanding that way. I think you’re much more accessible than people think. And WAYYY less fussy. You’re definitely chill.
So yeah, I’m cool, right? I’m getting that vibe.
But I’m also getting that vibe that I DO need to be alone with you more. We should talk one on one. Or just SIT one on one.
Yeahhhhhhhhh. THAT’S what I need. Just you and me sitting next to each other on a fishing boat, Jesus.
That’s what I need. You and me and silence.
And in the silence, please help me feel known. Please take the desires and prayers of my heart and hear them- though my mouth and brain are too tired to articulate them. Even say-it-in-your-head prayers are too exhausting for me.
What I need a silence-and-just-let-God-be-God kind of prayer.
Yeah, Jesus, OH YEAH. A silent prayer. That’s what I need.
You got that?
Of course you do.