Praying challenges me.
I have found that putting expectations on myself during prayer is almost always counterproductive. Whenever I make goals for the length and frequency of my prayers, I always fall short. I have realized that making strict rules for my prayer life shifts my focus away from God, which doesn't make sense.
Sometimes my words to God are few, but He draws me near anyway. I don't think He counts my words or the number of times I pray. Instead, I believe He listens to my heart...the joys and the sorrows in my soul.
When William was first diagnosed, my shock and sadness was disorienting.
All I could pray was, Carry me.
After William died, I was broken and weary.
The only words I could find were, Help me.
During my pregnancy with my daughter, the fear was overwhelming.
I pleaded with God, Protect her
When I hold my daughter in my arms as the sun is just beginning to rise,
I whisper, Thank you
Pouring your heart out to God can mean hours of praying...
but sometimes two words are enough.