My prayers have become repetitive.
Not in that it's the same words, but that I keep revisiting the same subjects to talk it through one more time. I imagine Heavenly Father, floating somewhere above my bed, wearing a soft smile as He whispers, "Okay, sweetheart, we can talk about this again if you'd like."
He's not angry or frustrated or bored. He's just as patient as the first go around.
I express my concerns, my failings, my tentative hopes, and most recent development in how I'm going to get from where I am to where I want to be.
I imagine He keeps smiling and nodding. He looks fond of me, even if I often feel that I'm waisting His time. Somewhere in the middle, when I start to get nervous, He puts a steadying hand on my shoulder. I stop talking and we're quiet for a minute.
I close my prayer. He lingers for a moment, still smiling. I smile, too.
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