I have not always had or led a peaceful life. I had some very painful experiences growing up, and by the age of 13, in my mind and heart, i'd turned my back on God, telling myself suffering may be good for saints, but I'm no saint! I had enough of suffering. That pride eventually became fear and then rage. I was at war with the world and myself. I lacked the willingness and desire to accept life's terms. Life was not fair, God was not just, and the world would be a better place if there were less people in it.
I do not believe I can explain to you what happened to me with words, in a way that would cause you to realize the truth of the experience. I can only tell you, that in that dark moment of my life, something powerful happened. It happened with purpose and direction. I had a thought I'd never had before. I took actions that I was completely powerless to perform before. All because I uttered a very simple prayer, God, help me.
It's personal. This story is for me. The value of its meaning resides in me. It's power is a source of strength for me.
I would tell people this story, looking for them to see the power in it, but have come to find out, it's power is not in how God changed me or my life. It's real power is hope.
Hope of healing, of recovery, of moving from surviving to thriving.
I started telling you this because of one anecdote. I was three years post-prayer, standing at the sink washing dishes, and was quite unaware that I was whistling or of the reasons why. When i realized I was whistling because I was happy, I stopped. Not because I wasn't a happy person. I stopped because I had not been this free or happy for a very long time......
Sometimes it's good to be uncomfortable.
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