I’ve always thought we get here on the wings of a prayer.

Here, meaning, into a life that is purposeful and good, as opposed to a self-absorbed existence highlighted by something wonderful I bought on the internet, or a bout of excessive eating, a predictable divorce, or a short but memorable trip to a jail or the local mental institution.
Or maybe just isolating to the point that no one even knows you anymore.

I rarely prayed. I was too afraid of God. I didn’t know how to talk to the All Powerful, All Knowing, and Always Watching supernatural being…almost like the Big Brother idea of 1984. -at least, for me, who had plenty to hide from the powers that be. But the day came that I stopped running- from myself, from other people, and from God.

That was the day I learned to pray.

The first real prayer I used was the Serenity prayer.

“God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

         It was simple, short, and easy to remember. It broke things down in ways that seemed attainable-God, grant me Serenity-I sure needed that. Acceptance. That , too, I had little experience practicing. Courage. Did I need that? More than ever. Wisdom? Whoa, that I was really short on!

I’ll never forget one Christmas. I was a single parent, and I was broke, weary ,and worried. My little son was almost two, and a handful, like any toddler that age. We went to my brother’s house in South Austin for Christmas. I walked into his nice apartment and faced all my sisters and brothers, a handful of cousins, and my Dad. Each one had tons of advice about how to raise my son. “Why don’t you try to…” “Have you thought of…” everyone making me feel like I was a terrible mother. I’m sure it was well-intentioned, but my self esteem was so low, I took everything wrong. I wanted to run to my beat up old Honda, to get in and leave, to forget the Christmas gathering and just go to the safety of my small home in Clarksville.
To make it worse, my sweet child had crawled into a nearby open closet, found my sister-in-law’s leather purse and was decorating the new, brown rug with her black mascara! I was horrified, my brother was livid, yelled at me, and now I was REALLY searching for an escape hatch.
But if I left now, my son would have no nicely wrapped presents, and I would admit that I was emotionally inferior to the rest of the world.
Where could I turn? I didn’t know. I went upstairs with my son, sat in a dark bedroom, ashamed, and cried. Cried because there was no strong husband to help me, cried because I was exhausted, cried because I probably judged myself more harshly than anyone else did. Cried because it was Christmas, andnnot a time anyone should be crying.

     But no. “Stop,”I told myself. I had to try to be braver than this. I looked at my little boy, playing with a grey toy raccoon his grandfather had given him, and oblivious to my state of affairs, was chattering cheerfully to his furry companion. I took a deep breath, and remembered the Serenity prayer, and decided then to take a cup of courage, say that prayer, and carry on. Christmas came and went, and I survived.

     That was my first prayer, but I have since found a few more. The beautiful prayer of St. Francis, the Our Father, and my favorite, Psalm 23, The Lord is My Shepherd. I don’t know why that particular prayer speaks to me, but I find it the most comforting of all.
Aside from prayer, I have learned the value of meditation as well. To be still and try to hear the small still voice of God, in my heart or mind, and allow myself to be guided to the path I feel He wants me to be on. When I quietly enter the world of the spirit, I always leave with something more: a new thought, an inspiration, a bit of strength, peace, or perhaps a new decision or direction to take. This helps me to live a life of hope, even when my world may seem hopeless.
        These are the things that have carried me through, helped me navigate the storms of life, especially lately. Practicing acceptance, gratitude, prayer, affirming the goodness of God in my life, focusing on the good, not going down the slippery path of self-pity, depression, and darkness. It’s back to the basics: I’m powerless over things I cannot change, but never choiceless. I have what I need every day, and when adversity comes, I do not have to meet it alone. Hand in hand with the loving spirit of the universe, I walk forward, with dignity and grace, knowing that if I try, even in a faltering way, to find spiritual light, God will meet me, and always more than half-way.

 Do you hear him? He’s in every story, every song, and every prayer we hear. Perhaps in a little red bird on a branch outside my window, or in the star that has been shining in the sky each winter night.

After all, darkness is just the absence of light.

So, let’s find the inner light this Christmas! It’s just a prayer away!