It has been hard to pray recently. The words come stilted and fragmented until they wander off into silence. I sit and allow my mind to review my to do list and shelve my prayers. And since we are being honest, it’s been hard to have faith. Even for small things. And I used to have such grand faith, such capacity in believing that God hears and God answers.
But then we had our second miscarriage.
Then our third.
I had come to Him with prayers full of faith and fire. He didn’t answer.
I’m not angry. But it has made me reluctant. Reluctant to believe or to be expectant.
But this is part of the healing process, right. That moment when we let go of the expectations of what should have been and open ourselves up to what is next.
Because there, residing between disappointment and anticipation, is this simple prayer, “Lord, help restore my faith. Help my unbelief.”