the spring i started praying again

 

It was a warm spring morning, probably late March or early April... I can’t remember exactly. What I do remember is that the windows were cracked open, the breeze smelled like grass and laundry soap, and I was standing at the kitchen sink with my hands in dishwater and my heart somewhere else entirely.

I hadn’t prayed in weeks.

Not out loud. Not in my journal. Not even the quiet, in-between kind you whisper to yourself at a red light. I just didn’t know what to say.

I wasn’t angry with God. Just... quiet. Tired. Somewhere between numb and unsure.

That spring had come after a long winter — not just outside, but inside me too.

My husband had been gone a few years by then. The house was still full of his things, but empty in all the ways that mattered. I was learning how to live again, slowly, quietly. I’d go to the store. Pay the bills. Keep up with the laundry. But it felt like I was just walking in circles, waiting for something to feel real again.

One morning, I was wiping off the table when I noticed a little sprout coming up by the back fence. I hadn’t planted anything. Not intentionally, at least. But there it was — green and stubborn and alive.

I looked at it for a long time.

And then — without even meaning to — I whispered,
"Lord, I don’t know what I’m doing... but I miss You."

That was it. That was the prayer.

No fancy words. No big moment. Just a quiet sentence that broke through weeks of silence. And that one sentence opened something in me.

That spring, I started praying again.

Not because I felt holy or strong... but because I missed the sound of my own heart reaching out.

I’d sit on the porch with my Bible open and my mind wandering. I’d fold laundry and hum old hymns. I’d write down verses on sticky notes and lose half of them before the week was over. But it didn’t matter. I had started again.

And isn’t that what spring is for?
Not perfection... just the courage to begin again.

So if this season finds you feeling behind or uncertain... if your soul still feels a little frozen even though the trees are blooming... I just want to say this:

You’re not too late.
You’re not too far gone.
And you don’t need to have perfect words to pray.

You can start again right here, right now.

Even at the kitchen sink.
Even with hands in dishwater.
Even with just one small sentence.

Spring has a way of reminding us... life still wants to grow.
And so does faith.