Of course, since I have never had my heart surgically removed or my sensitivity permanently amputated, I ran in there to lay next to her.
Last night while reading the Bible I read these verses: Luke 18:10-14 NIV
“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
And it really has me thinking (albeit that thinking is a little stunted because I got poor quality sleep last night and have a brain that is currently devoting most of its synapses to growing a person). Am I wrong when I devote so much prayer to being grateful for the things that make me feel fortunate (like growing up with loving and supportive parents, or for being creative, or for not having a life that ultimately led to drug addiction, etc.)?
Should I spend more energy praying against my failings? Is hubris playing at my soul sneakily (I am aware of the overt ways). Ok, that is all I can do right now. I am in a pitch black room with the laptop screen brightness turned down so low that I can barely see what I am typing and the fitful-sleeper next to me is breaking my heart.