Some days I am okay. Some days I am not. Lately, more days are not okay.
Last Sunday, while being thrown into a risky situation, I caught myself doing something I frequently do on accident: saying a prayer in my heart. “Heavenly Father, please let me be okay.” “Heavenly Father, please help my depression get better.” “Heavenly Father, please help me know what to do.” I’ve always been a ‘heart-pray-er.’ My whole life I have lived in the depression and anxiety spectrum. Those heart prayers were a very real way to cope. I didn’t just believe someone was listening, I genuinely felt like I knew someone was listening. It actually would contribute more to the depression sometimes when I would beg and beg for it to go away so I could just get through the night, and nothing happened. But alas, that’s where faith came in. Faith in God’s plan. Faith that this was an Earthly trial and there was some bigger plan; some reason why I had to go through this. Faith that there would be a reward for having to endure such darkness.
I catch myself saying those heart prayers from time to time. Usually it hurts pretty bad when that happens. Prayers in my heart were rarely anything but emotional emergencies. So when I am in those times of trouble and catch myself heart praying, and realize that it is empty and no one can hear it except my own mind, the loneliness and emptiness compounds on top of whatever was causing me to heart-pray.
At the end of a Mormon Stories episode I was listening to today, there was a clip of a hymn (as there always is at the end of each episode). Today, it was “Where Can I Turn For Peace.”