Looking back at my sessions with the Psychologist, I wondered about the God we discussed. We talked about God, but it was not the God I know. There was never any mention of reaching out for help. I was never encouraged to dig into the Word of God even though the pyschologist new I was a Christian and was a Christian. No mention of relating to God was ever brought up unless it was something I said in telling about what was going on in my life.

Let us go back to the time I was rocking restlessly in my bed. There was this ever-present need to rock back and forth. I needed to rock like I needed oxygen. When nothing seemed to stop the rocking, I started to pray. It begin with the little things, “God help me sleep.” Not being able to be in a state of rest is torture. The only time I was not rocking or anxious was when I was sleeping. This made me want to sleep all of the time.

My level of fear was at an all time high. I found it difficult to go outside. Even going into the front yard was too much. This made things difficult as I was typically the person in our house who mowed the lawn. My doctor suggested I try to take a walk around the block in one of our sessions. So this became a goal of mine.

Since I spent a great deal of my time in bed, I found myself praying more and more. What began as, “God help me sleep!” or “God help!” soon became “God, I love you. Tell me what you are thinking today.” My prayers with God became more like conversations and less about me. Now, I know you might be thinking, “Craig, I am not much of a prayer.” Then you are exactly like I was!

So what changed? Well, when you are stuck in bed not able to sit still, not able to find rest, days seem like weeks. To put it simply, I was forced to pray. Not in a manipulative or mean spirited way, but because I needed prayer to live. This dialogue with God was as important as air, food, or water. I soon found myself praying my way through the day, minute by minute, hour by hour.

Stop and think about what this is like. If it helps you, take thirty minutes or an hour and go pray. If you have ever tried this you know, you run out of things to pray for quickly. Now think about praying minute by minute and then hour by hour. What happens when you run out of things to say?

What I found as I turned to God in prayer, was that God was the only one who could bring me peace. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time in prayer.