GRATITUDE PRAYERS

I feel so many of my posts the past couple of months have been really heavy. Heavy with emotion, heavy with meaning, and heavy with purpose. After each current blog is edited and posted, I think to myself, “The next one will be more fun. We all deserve a little more lightheartedness to our day.”.

I had those same thoughts going into this week. I actually had a fun blog planned out, with inspiration and notes already collected and ready to be placed. However, just as with the weeks before, God had other plans.

This week’s topic has been weighing heavy on my mind as of late, in the absolute best of ways. It is something I have become passionate about, something I had planned to share with the world (or, ya know, the four of you), just at a later date. Through quiet whispers and unshakeable thoughts, I know without doubt or question, that someone needs to hear this right now.

So, listen up, because things are about to get good.

I lied, things are about to get bad. We are returning, once again, to my trials. I know, I know, you are fed up with hearing about the unending woes of poor Negative (N)ellie. I have it on good authority that she is too. If you’d like a topic change, perhaps try your hand at petitioning the Lord for our dear, dear friend.

My grandfather, he was an anchor in my life, keeping me much more grounded and safe than even I realized. As I look back on this year with the eyes of perspective and understanding, I can see just how much his illness and passing affected me.

Proudly I donned the title of being “his girl”, but now as our earthly time together was drawing to a close, it was obvious that I could not measure up to such a loving nickname. How often had I failed him? How many of life’s joys had I kept from him, by charting my journey around different accomplishments than most? How could I bear it if and when I finally reached my successes, if he was not there to witness it?

Completely overcome by the fear of failure, I buried my head in the sand, keeping my true feelings hidden even from myself. Unfortunately, the truth always comes to light, no matter how deep we dig to conceal it.

Though I had complete and utter peace at the time of his passing, knowing where he truly was, I also experienced overwhelming feelings of failure. Not just that I had failed him, and sent him from this life wanting more, but that in every single aspect of my life I was failing. No decision I made, no path I went down, no good deed I did could ever or would ever be enough. I was a flawed, wretched being, and I was shocked to see that it had taken me oh so long to recognize it.

Overwhelmed by my feelings of despair, I turned again and again to my Heavenly Father, begging for relief, begging to feel His love, begging to feel anything but shame and despair. In the weeks that followed his death, every night seemed to end the same. Me, curled in a ball, tears streaking down my cheeks and onto my knees, begging the Lord in sobbing gasps to end my sorrow.

It never seemed to work, which was shocking to me. Wasn’t this exactly what one was supposed to do in these situations? When you feel as if the weight is going to crush you, you give it to Him to help carry? How could praying for His aid seem to be making things worse instead of better?

After weeks of confusion and heartache and anger, I remembered a quiet whisper that had somehow managed to break through one of my rambling pleading sessions.

“Say a gratitude prayer before you go to sleep.”

In the midst of the snot and the red cheeks, I had been too self consumed to even deem that suggestion worthy of consideration. I didn’t need to be grateful in that moment, I needed help! I needed change, I needed strength, I needed love! I had already dedicated my morning prayers to gratitude and thankfulness, how was changing the hour going to help anything?

As a shock to none, I’m sure, changing the hour changed everything. Rolling amidst the dirt and debris of rock bottom, I finally had the humility to try out the foolish suggestion. Almost immediately, I realized that it was I who had been the fool, for I had been keeping myself from the Lord’s love and power the entire time.

Is it just me, or is the end of the day when our trials seem the most heavy? In the morning, there are endless stretches of time for miracles and achievements to occur. At night, all that is left is time to reflect on our many mistakes of the day, and begrudge the moment we must try again tomorrow.

No? Just me? Once again, not really shocked.

For me, each night I would go to bed, stewing and rehashing and circling my trials, my faults, my burdens, and then I would go to sleep. The next morning, instead of awaking refreshed and ready to take on the day, I still carried the weight of all of my problems on my shoulders.

It was not that the Lord wouldn’t take them from me, it was that I was clinging to them. I was making them a part of me, allowing them to all but define me and consume, and risking the chance that they would take my faith with them.

One tiny change, one small answer to prayer that was accepted instead of ignored, was all it took to pull me out of my pit.

Instead of focusing on all I was owed, on just how truly hard my life was, or on on the many, many mistakes I had made throughout the day, I chose instead to focus on my blessings. My health, my family, my eternal family, yummy food, the dogs, reading. Everything, big and small, significant and not, I thanked the Lord for each and every bit of it.

And you know what? He returned that gratitude ten-fold.

The sun seemed to shine brighter, His love coming to me in more obvious ways, ways I had allowed the dark clouds of self pity to obscure. My stresses and fears seemed to melt away with each word of thanks that crossed my lips. Many days, I awoke in the morning happy, an unnatural feeling for me, and prepared to tackle the day.

My fears and anxieties seemed to have less power over me, more easily squashed by the truths and the love He was constantly showing me. I was not an afterthought to be cast off, but a flawed child more than worthy of attention and forgiveness. I began to realize that what my grandfather felt for me was not disappointment, but pride, immense pride at my faith and diligence to follow the Lord’s plan.

My life truly changed for the better each and every day, and it was all due to the power of a gratitude prayer.

Now, I am not saying that we cannot petition for the Lord’s aid. That is one of the very reasons He gives us the power of prayer, so we can plead for help and strength for ourselves and others. What I am saying is, be sure you recognize the answer when He gives it to you.

Sometimes His guidance is hard to spot, or downright confusing, but it will never lead us astray. Do not follow my lead, waiting until the last possible minute to follow His promptings. Grasp hold of it the minute it comes, and wait for the miracles that ensue.

But, above all else, be grateful. Share your thankfulness with the Lord, with the world, declaring your testimony of His love for you. The power of gratitude is one of the biggest blessings He offers us. I mean, if praying in gratitude can change a Negative (N)ellie like me, imagine what it can do for you.