I think I have something to work on.

I wonder sometimes what I'm saying by my actions. I say I want to be closer to God, but do I really?
When I'm cross with my husband because he forgets his chores, or doesn't throw away some paper towels or packaging (again!), or doesn't notice when I wear the earrings or perfume he gave me, I don't pray for compassion or understanding. I get snippy or crabby or sulky.
When I'm impatient because the kids are loud or demanding or when they need help with school or reminding to put things away (again!), I don't pray for patience or kindness. I yell or threaten or growl.
When I'm feeling harried with chores or errands or running around, I don't pray for time. I rush and scatter and hurry. I don't have time to pray.
When I'm happy because the weather is beautiful or I'm feeling caught up on chores or the kids are doing well with school, I don't pray in thanksgiving or gratitude. I may laugh or enjoy a walk, but not pray.
Later on, when I realize I've been mean, impatient, rude, or ungrateful, I don't pray to ask forgiveness. It's too hard, too humiliating.

One would think this would be the first thing I'd do, right? It's free, after all, and can be quick. And it's easy, right? Well... sometimes.
Sometimes, I'm embarrassed to ask for help. To admit I can't do everything I'm supposed to, or know I should. Sometimes I don't feel worth someone else's trouble. Or I'm in too much of a hurry. Or I want to take the credit all on my own.

So I don't pray. Maybe I should.