Prayer Must Really Work

There is no other explanation for the optimism I feel about life. I am not on a high, trust me, but I am dealing with losing a home in stride. I'm shocked even at my own ability to be excited about what's in store for my / our future.

I'm not seeing this as a loss but rather an opportunity.

Last week I was working on a new project for a client. It's a small website for a cancer treatment center, and while I was gathering the assets, I saw a photo of a cancer survivor. I was moved by her quote:
“When I was first diagnosed, I thought it was the end of my world. But then I began to see things differently. ‘It's the beginning of my world,’ I thought.  ‘My world is just going to be a little bit different than how I had it planned.’” – Rose Painter


My world is just going to be a little different than how I had planned it. A little different? If someone can take cancer in stride like that, if someone can see it as a beginning, not an end, then surely I can too. I long to be a person with such optimism. A person who can leave emotions at the door and walk into the room with rolled up sleeves asking, "OK, what needs to be done here?" I want to be that person. Instead, I carry the burden of emotion like buckets of water on a milkmaids pole, navigating thru the crowded artifacts of life with unnecessary entanglement.

But someone must be praying for me. Or a few someones. Because I am not orienting that yoke while trying to cook breakfast. I'm not sacrificing a moment of rest to lament what I don't want to let go of. Instead I feel free. I'm in a place of opportunity. I have work to do, but there's hope in my future.

I have no explanation for the optimism I feel other than some sort of divine grace bestowed upon me. A gift that is unexpected, a present from Heaven, a simple miracle. I'm not weeding my way thru a cornfield.

Thank you to those who might be praying. I certainly am receiving the benefits.