Talking to God

About a month ago, I asked my mom to pray for someone on an e-mail listserv that I belong to. She said she would, but that God would listen more if it came from me.

You know, I don't feel like I have that kind of relationship with God. I mean, I acknowledge that he exists (but can't quite bring myself to capitalize the "h" there). But we don't chat regularly. And I hate to be one of those crappy friends who only calls when they need something.

Well, I've had a lot of very personal Crap-with-a-capital-C in my life recently. I don't want to talk about the details here, but trust me - it's lousy. And hard. Really really hard. So this morning when Scott was driving me to the chiropractor, I was thinking about my Mom, and hoping that she was praying for me. And I remembered what she said.

So I asked God to please let all of my Crap-with-a-capital-C work out the way I wanted it to. And if I couldn't have it the way I wanted, then to please make me be ok with the way everything does sort out. And a little while later, I realized that I was at peace. I was calm like I haven't been in quite a while.

I guess that means God is looking into it. And I figure the best thing that I can do is to not make the situation worse by trying any irrational quick-fixes. My emotions are running really close to the surface, and it's really hard for me to quell those knee-jerk "fight or flight" responses. But that's what I feel like I need to do. Lots of deep breathing, and re-reading the Harry Potter books to escape reality a little bit.

Today's cliche: it's all in God's hands.
Tonight's activities: reading with Milo on my lap.
Tomorrow morning: back to the chiropractor to see how I handled my adjustment.
Tomorrow afternoon: pedicure with Cat.