Say a Little Prayer
I would consider myself to be a spiritual person; additionally I seem to connect with my heart much easier than I did when I was younger. Not sure if it’s wisdom, being more heart centered or simply age. Little things seem to matter more, or is it that I’m just paying closer attention? Earlier in my life I’m pretty sure I did most of my praying when things weren’t going well, but I’ve come to realize it’s also the blessings that need my attention as well.
Saying a prayer can be done anywhere at any time you choose. It could be a prayer of healing, gratitude, thanksgiving, grace, frustration, or uncertainty; the list goes on and on. When I am fully present, I find it natural to see all the goodness around me. Things that originally appear to be the furthest thing from a blessing, end up being just that. Maybe not in the moment, but rather in the reflection.
Most Sundays you’ll find me sitting in the fourth pew from the front, on the left hand side, directly behind my parents. I’ll be the first to admit, after a long week some Sundays I would rather stay in bed, but usually get myself up, and always feel better when I do. Recently, while making announcements, the pastor asked the congregation if they had been out to visit the prayer garden this season. Sheepishly, I shook my head……I was embarrassed I hadn’t taken the time to notice or give thanks to the people responsible for its beauty.
As soon as the service was over, I made a beeline straight to the prayer garden and was pleasantly surprised to see how it had grown since last year. It was manicured with great care. I didn’t see a weed in sight, just beautiful, lush green plants and flowers in various shades of orange, pink, yellow, purple, and white, all nestled into a neat little corner of the grassy hill. Directly in front of the garden resided two benches; patiently waiting for a passerby to sit, enjoy, reflect and pray.
As I sat on one of the benches it was easy to envision the loving hands that created the masterpiece that spread out before me. Asking nothing more of me other than to sit, relax, and enjoy its charm. I did just that while offering up prayers of gratitude.
The next Sunday I made a point to reach out to the woman that was responsible for organizing and making the prayer garden possible. She was beaming from ear to ear as I offered my gratitude, however, she wasn’t glowing because of the accolades but rather from the splendor the garden offered to anyone that would visit. Even though the garden offered me a place of rest and reflection, I was just a humble servant that offered to say a little prayer of appreciation.
xoxox…..Sheryl