The prayer you forgot you prayed

Remember the night you asked God to get you out of this? Maybe lying awake with the lights off. Maybe after a rough checkup, or after telling someone a number that wasn't true. It wasn't a pretty prayer. It was closer to a complaint about the hook the cigarette had set in you. Morning came and you forgot you'd said a word. He didn't.

Look where you're standing now. You're reading this instead of reaching for a cigarette. Maybe the road's been smooth, maybe it's been messy, but you're getting out. That's the answer, arriving. And what did you do when it showed up? Moved the goalposts. An answered prayer got filed under work in progress.

Gratitude isn't manners. It's eyesight. Miss one answer and you train yourself to miss the next. Most answers don't come as thunder. They come looking like an ordinary week, so hardly anyone notices them. You're living inside one right now.

Thank Him for the specific thing, out loud. The mornings that start differently now. The money that stays put. The fact that you're here. Thank Him like you'd thank a friend who drove across town at midnight for you. You heard me. Thank You. You asked once in the dark. Now you get to thank Him in the light.