If I have learned one thing about God over the years, it’s that He answers prayers. I know I’ve mentioned before that the quickest prayers He answers are ones in which we are asking to serve. When I was in undergrad and would pray before I got out of the car to walk to class, God always answered quickly. He would put someone in my path to help. He would show me a way to be used, to be a blessing to someone else.

A couple weeks ago, I realized another type of prayer God answers right away. I asked Him to show me parts of my heart or situations I needed to reconcile and forgive. I asked that He soften my heart. He did. It was that simple. I asked one night, and by my morning drive to work, I had an answer. God showed me a place I harbored bitterness and unforgiveness. I surrendered. And I am better for it.

I think that as we learn to pray the right prayers, and as God answers, we start to truly learn to live like Jesus. We learn to meet people where they are. And we begin to understand what it means for God to meet us where we are.

With that being said, I learned this week a different prayer God answers–one I’ve never dared to ask. I asked God to help me pray for my enemies. I’ve always known I need to do this. I’ve understood the concept. But I really didn’t believe it was possible. I didn’t believe people actually do this. I never believed I could, either. But that’s the difference when you are mentally healthy: you are able to ask this and also do it. In previous years, I was not capable of it. I was too hurt, in too much pain, suffering too much. I was imprisoned by my own mind. And even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I didn’t or couldn’t understand the concept. And I didn’t want to.

It’s been an extremely difficult two weeks. I was in waters I’ve never been. A long-time friend became an enemy–an enemy that sought revenge, an enemy who wants to destroy me. But I turned the other cheek. At any other point or time in my life, this would have gone differently. I would have reacted differently. I’m not sure if it’s age, wisdom, my 40’s, God working on me, or all of the above, but I have handled everything in a way I never would have before. And although I haven’t done it yet, I understand now what it means to pray for my enemies. I am seeing the importance of it as well as seeing it with a softer heart. God is working on me.

I never understood Matthew 5:39 which says “But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” I understood what it meant but never how to do it. We aren’t to seek vengeance against an evil doer or someone who does us wrong. It should stop with us.

That’s a very difficult thing to do, especially when we are in pain and suffering. But we are called. And when you are mentally healthy and clear of mind, you can put on the shoes of your neighbor and go for a walk. You meet them where they are. And Jesus meets you where you are. And you see their pain. And you feel bad for them–even though they wronged you. You see their suffering. You relate. And you want to pray. And as you pray, God heals you. God deals with your wrongs. He opens your eyes. He softens your heart. He forgives you.

It’s been an unbelievable week–one of obvious growth and enlightenment. A friend of 24 years became an enemy. God opened my eyes, and I didn’t even know I couldn’t see.

“Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done
On Earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
Lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom
And the power
And the glory, forever.
Amen.”

Praise be to God for softened hearts and answered prayers.

May God give us eyes to see, ears to hear, wisdom to turn the other cheek, strength to put on the enemy’s shoes and go for a walk, and mercy when we don’t. May He keep us ever mindful of the past, hopeful for the future, and the desire to prepare for it. Amen.

Last night I was startled by the police beating on my door. When I answered in my nightgown, I hope I startled them back.

In a confused tone, they asked if I were Carly. I politely said no and pointed across the hall. They thanked me, I shut my door, and they proceeded to beat on hers.

I couldn’t help but watch through the peep hole, trying to decide why I thought they were there, fearfully convinced I already knew. My heart pounded, and I said a little prayer. She opened the door immediately. They explained they were doing a wellness check and asked if they could come in. She allowed them, and I went back to my couch to drift back to sleep.

Several more trips up and down the stairs, it sounded like someone else was at my door. I opened it to find the paramedics. I knew what that meant. They were probably taking her. I was overcome with sadness but also thankfulness. My heart sank to my stomach. I was happy she answered, happy she’s still with us, and happy she’s getting some help.

I know that pain. That hopelessness. You’re convinced it’ll never end. You can’t see light at the end of the tunnel. You’re not even sure there is one. The valley is dark and deep. And you’re angry because no one will let you go. They can’t stop the suffering, and you think they want you to suffer because they want you to stay. Everyone seems selfish. Reality is foggy. The truth is in hiding. And you’ve had all you can handle.

And if you are lucky, someone checks on you. Someone makes that call. The police come. You get the help you need.

And eventually you come out of that valley. You learn to deal with life on its terms. You learn to love yourself the way you love everyone else. And you become thankful. Thankful you saw the day through. Thankful you kept pushing, even though you didn’t want to. And you find your world can be a beautiful place. And things do get better–better than you could ever imagine. Mindfulness becomes easier. So do thankfulness, mercy, and grace.

And you use your experiences to relate to others. Empathy becomes your friend. And when everyone else is judging them, you feel a deep sorrow–not only for she/he who suffers but also for those in judgment.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4.)

May the Good Lord keep us mindful of where we once were, see opportunities for compassion, and give us strength to see them through. And may God have mercy on us when we don’t. Amen.