Home. Sitting in the room where I sent so many requests. Now, looking at the corner where I used to be on my knees wishing. Building hope and sowing dreams. Praying for changes I had yet seen. I believed. I have had many memories in this room. Yet, the ones that I am remembering now are the ones where I prayed alone or with friends. Specifically the type of questions I had made known to God. At times I asked, Why? Other times, How? And when I had no strength left, Please? 

It was in this room, for the first time I remembered God answering a request I so desperately longed for. The times I healed as I sang or as I danced. Brokenness to victory. Worrying to trusting. Loving to letting go. Then I started to not only pray but to remember. Joyfully remembering. Sobbing in thankfulness. Remembering answered prayers by an invisible God who so wanted me to know He is real. He is near.

And there was this one wish I had hoped and sent to heaven many years ago that came into reality. A dream my heart spoke. A “please?” I so wanted to see happen. Today, I am joyfully sitting in this room reaping its manifestation. I had forgotten. I had stopped dreaming it. I thought God had forgotten. Now, I remember I had asked, hoped and dreamt it to despair. He heard.

I met God so many times in this place. That place was my altar. 

Sankey S.