something in me sparked. something in me lacked. i was dry and thirsty and had no idea how to find a cup or how to operate the faucet. it began with a need for prayer. people in my life were hurting, they were asking, i was being held accountable to these prayers and i was letting people down. not that they knew it because i so nonchalantly threw around the phrase “i will pray for you.” it was a token, a passing thought to fill in the awkward space between news given and response needed. a default phrase that ate away at my heart each time i let the words pour off my lips. I will pray for you, I did pray for you, do you have any prayer requests....oh how it made me hurt and ache. i didn’t even know how to begin to pray, my laundry list of prayers, sickness, regrets, a little gratitude always felt fake and insincere. i wanted to be the girl on her knees, crying out to her father seeking guidance and protection in a broken world. but instead i found myself sitting with my list and with lips that wouldn’t move, frozen before the King of my heart not knowing how to mutter a word.
then i asked for help. and she responded enthusiastically with hard questions and accountability.
the questions came..
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