Today was one of those days that I too begged for prayer. In
fact, I sent out emails to more people than the population of some little known
European country with a funny name. I longed for God to be undated with voices
begging for help, but does God not hear the voice of a lone individual silently
mouthing a plea while huddled on her knees.
We pray for lots of different reasons. I pray for sunshine
or for the scale to forgive those yummy Girl Scout cookies jammed in the back
of a shelf. I pray I can find my lost keys or don’t see flashing lights behind
me as I rush to one more doctor appointment. I pray my hands stop shaking so I
can miraculously finish that birthday card that will fly to a home overnight so
I won’t be late – again – with heartfelt wishes.
I’m kind of the queen of prayer. I’m known for my reminders
for prayer before every committee meeting at church and each meal that I am
about to consume. I pray for my grandsons that they may feel God’s touch and the
love of a crazy grandmother too many miles away. I pray for pain to subside
from family and friends.
Today I learned of the need of two very vital prayers that
envelope such important values I hold close to my heart. The first prayer is
for people hundreds of miles from my home. A third grade classmate accidentally
shot an eight year-old girl at her school. She lies in a Seattle hospital,
clinging to a life that should be full of giggles, slumber parties and Barbie
dolls. Instead the harsh reality of today’s society has crashed into the homes
of that small girl and her confused classmate. Her dad is a member of the US
naval submariners, a body of young families bound by vows to their country and
a strong female society that support those spouses left behind. So pray for Amina,
still in critical condition. Pray for a frightened nine year-old, now wearing
an orange jumpsuit awaiting a long legal battle. Pray for their families,
trapped in a nightmare straight from a horror movie.
While I was emailing out that prayer request, I learned of
the need for prayer not hundreds of miles from my home but actually in my home.
I got a phone call about Bob’s MRI that was just taken on Monday. My poor hubby
was correct in his self-assessment made weeks ago. He has an additional stress
fracture caused by the hardware just recently placed to fix two other stress
fractures in his right foot. It’s Bob’s turn to again don those cute hospital
gowns as surgeons gather around his frame. I had my spinal neurostimulator
implanted in January, and we didn’t have any surgeries scheduled for February.
How this will affect his dreamed of trip for the NCAA basketball tournament is
yet to be determined. The trip is now just twenty days away. His health
prevented tournament trips the last two years. His worried journey had almost
come to fruition and his mood was clearly showing the good news.
His surgeon’s appointment will be right after a trip to my
surgeon where I get to admit that the neurostimulator does not extend the
electrical impulses to my hips or lower back. They will try to adjust that
somewhat in the office, but I have been told to not expect more than minor
revisions. So my surgery did not bring the relief for which I longed.
So please say some prayers, but make them honest dialogues
with God. Let them be sincere and placed right from your heart. The best key to
satisfaction is to pause after any supplication and wait for an answer. There’s
a lot to talk to God about so get comfy before the sacred conversation begins.
You get to talk with the magnificent king of creation. Wow! Life is good!
God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:
- I sure got a lot of
people on their knees to have some long overdue talks with God.
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