It always baffles me how short-term my memory is. I let stress build and build, worry clouds my mind, and it becomes a weight that I carry for weeks, sometimes months on end. It can be anything – school, work, money, relationships, family – it doesn’t matter. I let it happen, and I forget the most important part of myself: my faith.
I let worry and fear and procrastination and failure discourage and riddle me until I hit a point – which is often prayer. REAL prayer. Sometimes, when I pray at church I fall into a routine that sounds something like this: “Thank you for x, y and z. Please help me with x, y, and z. I’m so sorry for x, y and z.” It’s repetitive, and sometimes it’s almost thoughtless.
The prayer that opens my heart to hear what God wants from me is the prayer that hits me out of nowhere. There’s a little chapel in the office building I work, and I go there at lunch, pop my headphones in, and listen to music. Instead of Adele, John Mayer or ABBA, though, I listen to songs in my “soul songs” or “prayer” playlist. Music is my most powerful outlet for speaking with and listening to God. It comes so naturally, and at times it feels like he is sitting next to me for awhile.
Those moments focus my mind on the only thing that matters: His plan. I can stress and worry about trivial things, I can focus my attention on distraction and material objects, but that’s wasted time and energy. Deep down I know that. I just wish I kept it at the forefront of my mind more often than these moments.
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”(Romans 8:38-39)