Wasted Prayers

So today I was on the road and so I had time to do a lot of thinking. . . probably too much. I was thinking back and remembering all my morning prayers. I kind of almost had on OCD thing. I was always so fearful of losing my husband by having something happen to him on his way to work. I would almost hyperventilate thinking that I was going to get a call.

When I became pregnant this feeling only escalated and each morning I would walk Sam out the garage door and just as it shut I would begin to pray. I prayed to our God that he would keep him safe, get him to work safely and get him home to Visalia safely too. I even always said "home to Visalia" because I was so afraid that if I just said home he would take him "Home" and that thought was just too much to bear. I would put my hand on my stomach and say let's pray for daddy son. I didn't want to raise Nathan alone.

After Nathan was born it was the same thing. No matter how tired I was from long nights of being up with Nathan or nursing all throughout the night I would get up and see Sam off. I can proabbaly count on one hand how many times I stayed in bed as he left and that was usually if I didn't hear him getting ready in the morning. Even then, when that garage door shut the praying began. On most days though when i had Nathan in my arms I would say "ok, let's pray son."

I was thinking back on all those mornings and I became angered. How many prayers had I WASTED. How much did I ask of the Lord only to be left anyway.