It seemed like a simple thing...

As I opened the door and jumped up into my husband's tall truck after our recent trip to the mall (the day after Christmas-what were we thinking) to use a gift card, I hit my horribly misnamed, positively painful, unfunny knee on the door frame. How was that for a run-on sentence?

When I hit it, I immediately cried out "oh, I just want to scream, it hurts so bad!" I finished getting into my seat and proceeded to shout, cry, scream and run through every cuss word in my mind.

And then...

Like Niagara Falls, the floodgates opened, the tears fell, and the ugly cry commenced.

"I knew this was going to happen," I told husband.

He laughed, "You knew you were going to hit your knee on the truck?"

"No, I knew I was going to cry today. I knew I was going to feel sad."

From the moment I woke up, I just felt heavy. My heart felt heavy. Whether it was all that we've gone through lately, or not, my heart felt heavy. And truthfully, it is still heavy as I type this. How did banging my knee turn into something so huge?

We left the mall, and headed to see family, and the tears started to fall again. This time I didn't ugly cry. Thankfully, I saved that for when we got home, and then I continued to fall apart throughout the night.

As husband (who deserves a trophy and crown for catching all the tears I've cried this year) and I were talking, I told him I just felt hopeless. Though we didn't discuss the events of the last several months, it hung there between us. We've talked about it so much, we didn't need to talk anymore about it.

I prayed the tiniest of prayers yesterday. I asked for something very specific and tangible. I prayed like I would tell you to pray if you were hanging out at my house. I prayed earnestly, believing that the God of the universe actually knows and hears my voice.

And when He didn't answer my prayer yesterday, it was as if there was a vacuum inside sucking out every breath, and I just felt alone.

Why don't you hear me, God? Why aren't you listening anymore?

And I almost decided to stop praying...or at least stop asking God for specific things. Why ask and be disappointed?

And then we had to run to Redbox to return some movies. While we sat at the stoplight, I saw a man on the corner in running clothes, carrying a poster. He flipped it over to a message on the opposite side and he ran in front of our truck.

The poster read: "God said, Pray about it."