What If the Mess Is the Prayer?

Psalm 118 has this line that I have had play on repeat on my mind during my run this morning : “I called upon the Lord in distress: the Lord answered me.”

And I just had to turn off my headphones and let it just sit with me for a while because… I know that feeling.

There was a moment, just the other night, it was  one of those nights where everything just felt heavy. I had too many tabs open in my brain. I was juggling work stuff, family stuff, and some inner battles that didn’t have tidy names. And on this particular night I was folding laundry in my room, door half closed, trying not to let the overwhelm spill out where anyone could see it.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. But it was enough.

I remember sitting on the edge of my bed, holding one of my boys’ socks, and just thinking, “I don’t think I can do this well anymore.”

I didn’t cry. I didn’t pray out loud. I just looked up and whispered, “God, please. I need You to show up here.”

And He did. Not in a big, lightning-strikes-the-sky kind of way. But in this small steadiness that showed up in my chest. Just enough strength to breathe again. To finish the laundry. To not feel quite so alone in that moment.

That’s what I think of now when I read that verse. It makes me wonder… what if the calling didn’t have to be big or eloquent? What if it’s just whispering His name in the middle of the mess?

For me, making the Lord my “distress call” has looked a lot less like fireworks and a lot more like forming a quiet habit. Sometimes I write His name on a sticky note and put it on my mirror. Sometimes I keep a favorite verse in the notes app on my phone for when the stress creeps up mid-day. Sometimes, I just say “Jesus” under my breath while I’m driving or standing in the kitchen with dishes up to my elbows and a heart that’s a little undone.

And somehow, He keeps answering.