Renewal: morning prayers
Every day I wake up with intrusive
thoughts. Almost as if they begin before I wake up. My brain wraps around them, like that terrible song you can’t stop singing. For the first few moments I wake up, I’m flooded with only pain and panic.
And every morning, I begin the day with prayers of thanksgiving. It’s my morning routine. On my way to the restroom, I begin.
As I pull my shrieking body out of bed and toward my walker, I’m not thankful. I don’t feel gratitude, I feel pain and contempt that my body forces me ten miles to the restroom every morning.
But, the act of gratitude requires nothing but the act itself.
Perfect, because I have nothing else to give. And with no flowery words, no fuzzy feeling, no memorized verse, I give my scrambled offering to my Maker.
From my always darkened apartment, a Sun rises…in me. Every morning.
The Sunlight melts away those frigid intrusions. Soft light falls onto new gratitude where only a moment ago, I could find nothing worthy of speaking thanks over.
From then, everything I do, from brushing my teeth, to eating my food, to taking my medications is an act of worship.
There is no small act of service. No offering too small.
Every gift wrapped with thanks to God that I’m physically able to do each task, that I have medication to take where in other areas of the world I would not, that I have food to eat, and ability to digest it.
All of this has been provided to me by His hand. I’m feeling the fullness of gratitude now, the peace, and mercy that I only begin to understand.