An unexpected personal finding: praying is hard. Praying every night, which I resolved to do, whatever the circumstances, is unexpectedly hard. Sometimes I don’t want to. Sometimes I’d rather work late, or surf the Net or do the laundry, or talk to my husband…or anything…rather than get down on my knees and pray to my Father and admit the sins of the day. Especially if they were the sins of yesterday and the day before that and so on and so on.
I failed again. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Again.
We’re so used to being proud of ourselves for our accomplishments and sweeping the failures under the rug. To bring them out each night is humbling. Once in a while though, I feel, even as I fight myself to surrender, the joy of it.