October 15, 2009
hear my prayer
The memory has been sitting on my heart… heavily, I suppose. It was a beautiful moment, and it keeps calling me to prayer… day after day… hour upon hour.
She courageously left her hat back at her seat as she slowly made her way up for communion. Her family surrounded her… but her eight year old daughter especially caught my eye as she hopped on one shiny, patent leather shoe. She held her other foot just lightly off the ground, as to not dirty her white lace cuffed sock, and she leaned… just a bit towards her mother for balance. And with a sense of love so desperate that I could feel it, Kathy laid her hand upon her daughter’s cheek. Those slender fingers, once strong but now frail, spoke a lifetime to my heart. And in that instant, my own heart cried out for healing louder than it ever had before. They stood as a family... receiving the body and blood of Jesus... and the ache in my heart worked itself in a little deeper.
That day… plays vividly through my mind… and my knowledge of her courage and joy for each precious day attempt to cover my tears. In one selfish moment my heart cries out that I could not bear to lose another friend... and in the next... I am ashamed that I could even put myself into the equation. And with grace... God brings to me the real reason I pray for healing. The husband who adores her. The children who rely on her love for comfort, strength, example, and... balance. Her family... who can not bear the thought of her not being by their side in this lifetime. I don’t know if my prayers will be answered in the way I hope for… but I know that He hears me. And I know… that each and every day is a gift.