Piccola-ish

I went to church this morning. And while I was sitting in silence, listening to the choir, my memories of my childhood flashed back. I remembered myself praying before going to bed. And I remembered how I said my prayers.

I thank God for the day. I thank Him for having mom cook delicious food. I thank Him for letting dad come home early. And I thank Him for making my sister play with me. Then I go telling God what we have. I enumerate the things our family has, like our VW Beetle I call Pagong, my doll Claudine, our house, our toys, our TV set and almost all the things I use every day.

Of course I didn’t know then why I was telling God that. But now, I realize it’s my way of counting my blessings.

I didn’t know then how to use the word EVERYTHING.

That thought made me smile. It felt like He reminded me to be more thankful of everything I have today. I may be going through the toughest emotional torture but I should still be very thankful for every bit of it.

He makes things happen for a reason. I am confident that he will never forsake me. My heart may feel like it’s broken, but I’m sure He’s making His most wonderful way to make everything fine.

Now that I understand things better, my prayers became shorter, somehow. I do not enumerate the things I have anymore. I simply thank Him for everything – good or bad, ask for the forgiveness of my transgressions, and beg for His continuous blessings of love and care for me and my loved ones.

And at the last part of my prayer, I humbly ask Him to make me feel my heart complete… even just for a moment.

After I end my prayer, the second I open my eyes, it’s another battle…

The Little Me =)

(Source: bipolarwriter)