The only regular time I pray these days is when I get into bed.
Which, coincidentally, is also the best part of my day.
And it’s not the whole nightly devotional business, no, it’s thanking God for my big-ass queen.
My apartment’s freezing because I’m cheap and someone’s heating caught on fire the other day two floors about me so I’m paranoid and my bed is right underneath a drafty window.
But as soon as I slip under my six year old IKEA comforter, wriggle about for a few minutes, and turn off the light
I get this big goofy grin and thank God for putting a roof over my own head and for the gift of being warm every night when I get home and if that’s not bliss I don’t know what is.