You ever cried while praying? I haven’t. But l imagine it is a powerful thing to want something that bad. To talk to The One who can give it to you with that much emotion. To also be able to connect to Him in that way. I have never mentioned to anyone before that l have never cried while praying or that l sometimes feel like my prayers aren’t sincere enough because l am utterly scared that they will tell me that it’s because l am a non believer. I think l am a believer. But that’s not why l am frantically typing this as l debate whether or not l should make dinner. I can always have an orange instead.
I’m just here thinking about the numbness that sometimes comes with being sad. Or the overemotion (l don’t know if that’s a word, l just hope you get my point). You know there are some days when you just wake up and you are unfeeling. You are just indifferent. It’s just – whatevs! You can’t even pick up your phone and check your timeline or if anyone sent you WA messages overnight. Your house could literally be burning down or even worse, your very life- but you just don’t care. In that moment you are just a ball of – nothing? The kind of sadness where you don’t even eat, not because you are not hungry, but because you couldn’t be bothered.
And then maybe you get out of bed. You dress up. Put your make up on. Put some oil on your beard or whatever. Pick your best heels, the ones your girlfriend convinced you to buy when you were trying to fill that deep hole in your heart. ‘Girl, they make your legs look like sin!’, she said, and so you bought them. Or your best tie. The one your girlfriend got you for your birthday and when you wore it for the first time, that girl at your office said it makes you look so handsome and dashing. And so on the days when you need a pick me up- you go to that careful corner where you stash it, you take it out and you wear it and strangers smile at you and compliment you and in that moment – you feel seen. You smile your day away. You think you might actually be happy. You laugh and you make jokes with your friends. For a moment, just for a moment, you find some peace.
But you get home. And it’s all quiet. And you get into bed. And you try to pray, oh how you try. But somehow, it doesn’t feel right. You are unable to feel enough to make you actually formulate the prayer. I am reminded of this poem that l heard a few weeks back that talks about how it is one thing to ask for help, but a whole other thing to have the ability to put it into words. I hope someone assures me that sometimes we don’t always have to put prayer into words? That God just hears what’s in our hearts?
Sometimes we just don’t know where to put the sadness. But it goes away eventually, right? I mean it has to – right? But then again, l hope you find the courage to honor yourself by letting others help you – most of us are broken anyway, some by others and some by life – it is what it is. But in our journeys of survival, we help others survive too. Oh, and remember to take it one ‘are you fucking kidding me’ at a time. And go and listen to Lee Ann Womack’s I hope You Dance. I also hope tomorrow you wake up and not feel the need to wear your best heels or your best tie. Bye now. Till next time.