Sunday, May 20, 2012

My Story of Prayer

Growing up, my Mom would take us (myself, my sister and brother) to Sunday School/Church each week.  The congregation was huge in number and the sanctuary was always filled.  I attended Church with the same children I went to school with.  In summer we attended the Strawberry Festival and Vacation Bible School, and as a teen we had youth group on Sundays and once a month, a dance on Fridays. As an adult, I've had periods of going to Church faithfully and periods of not going at all.

About eight years ago, I was going through a very dark period in my life.  I remember it being a Friday and I was in such despair, I felt that suicide was the only answer.  That's awful, I know.  Now, I walked the same path from the bus to the office every day and while I know that I passed St. Mary's Church each day, I never "saw" it.  On this particular Friday, I happened to look up and there it was.  Though I am not Catholic, I walked inside anyway, sat down and prayed. And you may not believe it, but I was given an answer.  I am so thankful for the day I looked up.

When I was younger I always thought I had to save my prayers for something "big."  I learned that's not true and I ask for just about anything - help in finding my glasses, the car keys, parting the road so I can make a turn.  I pray every day for family, friends, the homeless, the sick, the abused, and I say thanks, thank you for the food we eat, the clothes we wear, the house we live in, for our lives on this earth, and for this earth, for each and every day.

My favorite inspirational reading is Guideposts.  My Mom subscribes to the magazine and it gets passed around between the children and grandchildren.  So much goodness each month in one little book.

And that's my story.

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