I have to admit that in the last couple years of my life, I stopped consciously praying. It used to be that I said my childhood prayers (“Now I lay me down to sleep…”) every night before bed, while kneeling and my mom beside me. As I grew up, my mom suggested I say them in my head while laying in bed and I continued this for a very long time. I don’t know how long ago – maybe in the last decade – I would have problems falling asleep and I’d realize, or reason, that it was because I had forgotten to say my prayers. And once I did, I found sleep quickly.
Since having a baby and reappointing much needed brain matter towards all things child and household related, I have been passing out exhausted without even a flittering thought of my long time prayer ritual. I know that if I got sick, I would offer sacrifices up to the Lord if only I could feel better – as I found myself doing last week during the great Early Pregnancy Affliction of ’09 – but I felt guilty for only going to God when I was in pain/need. I’m not sure what I am getting at here but the power of prayer is a mysterious thing and all I know is that today, I feel a lot better. Thank God. Literally.
Our three day weekend was nice/trying/fun. If it can be all three. I am trying to remember each night. On Friday, Ash played Magic so I am pretty sure my headachey, nauseous ass went to bed REALLY early. On Saturday, he took the Boy a bunch of places so that I could have some quiet/rest time because the tension headache was AWFUL. It was also aggravated by movement. Which is pretty difficult to avoid, you know? I did manage to pull myself from the slump long enough to make dinner, wherein I found out that Elliot still doesn’t like mashed potatoes. I know he’s only two and all but my mashes are the bomb, and I was kind of bothered that he didn’t gobble them up. Ash ran eight miles that night so I let him sleep in on Sunday, which actually worked well because Elliot and I got bagels and went to the park to sit and eat and then around 10, 10:30, we met our friends at the playground.
Yesterday we all felt kind of lazy, I think. I know we went grocery shopping and napped and went to the park, but Ash and I were feeling the strain of dealing with Elliot and his energy times 1000 all weekend. The boy just doesn’t stop. I know this is two and it’s to be expected but my god, it is tiring. Even though I feel all out of sorts being at work after the three day weekend, I am glad to have some time to myself – even if it is in the office – and time to recoup. I will be more effective at dealing with home life once I have a day at work. I never ever thought I would say that.
I exit with some random bullets and then I am going to do actual work. WORK!
- I am craving avocados
- I think my vacuum is going to die soon
- FSU’s offense looked great; and we still suck
- Three days until NFL!
- Still nauseous every morning but it tapers off
- It was 68 this morning; welcome, Fall.
- Cheerios are much better than crackers for an upset stomach.
Tell me, what is your mind bulleting this fine day?
incognitusscriptor.com 
Interesting habit, prayer.
I remember a pastor once reminding the congregation that we should be “thankful always.” So I decided to try something new: I sat my watch to go off every five minutes, and as I hit the button to reset the alarm, I’d offer a quick Thank You for another five minutes of life. Only on the day I decided to try it, I was helping some friends move into their new home. So I’d be carrying a couch, or some such heavy thing, and have to listen to the beep until we sat it down.
It got old.
Prayer should be spontaneous, not alarm-sensitive . . .
My great grandmother had a saying, “even an atheist prays to god on his death bed.”
I think that is how religion is designed, to make you feel guilty. Did you really notice anything different in your life based upon the amount of prayer you participate in? Sure, you can say, I felt better or things went fine because I prayed, but what is the likelihood they would’ve anyway?
This realization was one of the things that led me away from religion in general. Why does the all powerful creator need feeble creatures such as us to pray to him? What does he derive from that, does he not have the ability to see into our hearts and judge us?
I think those fellows a couple thousand years ago might of got it wrong.