Prayer ... has always been my companion -- for as long as I can remember. I'm pretty much in prayer all the time -- in a continual conversation with my creator (David would appreciate that aliteration). But in the last several years, my intentional prayers have waned. That daily time set apart -- to pray for others, to give thanks, to ask for stuff, to confess my crookedness -- has not been a discipline practiced, intentionally, like it used to be. You know ... it takes effort -- intentional prayer. It takes energy. I guess I've been using my emotional and mental energy in other areas of my survival. However, that ongoing, unintentional, second-nature conversation with God has been my comfort and my friend.
Here's what I know. I know that God has been completely in-tune with what Leslie has been going through. I know He's been right beside me every painful step of my way. I know that He already knows the words of my lips and the meditations of my heart so truly that I haven't had to utter them. That knowledge -- that faith -- has kept me vertical. I love that it's okay that my prayer life has basically been, "Help me. Help me. Help me." (Thanks, Deb.) But I've also managed to muster-up several, "Comfort them. Bring them Peace." prayers -- for special people also struggling -- with sorrow, with loss, with broken hearts. I haven't been completely of myself!
Last night I went over to my little church for Sunday Evening Prayers. It's a new, organic gathering of just a very few souls -- special souls. We gather simply to pray. We pray alone, silently -- then we pray together. What a radical idea, right? We even touched each other. We held hands. We prayed for our church, for our children, for each other. And we were forever altered. There's nothing quite so intimate as praying together. Have you ever done it? Try to imagine being angry with someone when you're praying with them. It's nearly, if not entirely, impossible. Try to be jealous, boastful or rude. Nope. I don't think you can be (unless you're one of those hubris-filled pharisees showing off at the back of the temple). Prayer literally changes people. It changes me. It can change you. And it can effect change in others. It feels good to be praying with purpose again -- beyond my own survival.
Tonight a few things have been going on. Dear friends of mine lost their mother. She was old and had lived a long and wonderful life, but her death is still sorrowful. A mother lost. My heart is heavy and I pray for comfort and peace for my sweet friends and their children. Also, a friend of my daughter's shared that she was struggling with a bit of sadness. I don't know exactly what her family life is like, but I felt the mama-bear'ness roar and all I wanted to do was to hold her and stroke her hair and tell her everything was going to be alright. Across the miles, all I managed to do was to tell her that I loved her, but I think that was enough for now. I prayed love and care upon her. I hope she "knows" that blanket of care -- my small, but heartfelt attempt to bless her. Lord, this is a prayer for people who don't pray ... (who MAY not pray ...)
I have been the object of boatloads of prayer. It's been over two years since my husband's death and I still know there are people praying for me DAILY. Can you imagine a more humbling realization? Many, many years ago, I sat in front of the desk of the Dean of Women at my college -- a small, Presbyterian school. The beautiful, silver-haired woman of God who sat before me opened her checkbook and showed me my name and my sister's name amongst a myriad of scribbles in and around the three-year calendar. She let me in-on her powerful secret: She prayed for us DAILY. Our mother had died and that tugged at her heart and she was called -- commanded, really -- by our Lord and God to raise our names in prayer -- for COMFORT and PEACE. To this day, I love and cherish her beautiful faith -- lived-out right there in front of me. Nancy Paxton was a true role model for me. Thank you. You humble me.
David wrote a song about praying for people who don't pray ("Lord, This is a Prayer," Silent Conversation). After writing the song, he was humbled -- felt quite "put in his place," because the very soul about whom he wrote the song later said to his very face that he was praying for David! David never forgot that -- how he had assumed that this man had no prayer life -- that he had no faith, no belief system. David was sent to his knees in humility with that one -- and henceforth, introduced his song with the story of the young man from North Carolina. From a renewed view, he continued to pray for the downtrodden. Part of that was of gratitude for the blessings showered upon him in the form of prayers for him. Thousands of people actively prayed for David, especially during those last weeks of his life. I had to step back sometimes to take-in the enormity of that reality. THOUSANDS of people prayed for David -- for me, and for our children. Pause here. Consider this. Yeh. My husband had that broad an impact.
Thank you, God, for choosing me to be your instrument. Hmmm. God, WHY did you make me an instrument in this??? A fiercely independent woman with strong ideas, opinions, intellect and her own talents -- in the humble position of the undergirding, supportive wife of this "prophet with a guitar?" ... a woman who had already known great loss -- the death of her mother -- her father -- her grandparents. What the heck!? Gratitude? That's a tough one. I turned my face away. I stopped praying intentionally. I knew that God understood, but we were at odds with one another ... Still, I knew the truth. God is and was and always will be. God was already there.
Thank you, merciful, loving, grace-filled God. You know me and love me. Phew.
Please shower your love and comfort upon my dear friends as you welcome their beloved mother at your table. Blanket my daughter's precious friend with your unrelenting love. Protect my children with your powerful and fierce mercy. Carry me upon your velvety wing into tomorrow as I, again and again, attempt to glorify you. I'm so tired. Thank you for your amazing, saving grace.
Already, david m. bailey
from the top of the ladder to the end of the rope, in the fullness of joy, in the absence of hope, when you're lost in the crowd, when you feel all alone, when you're close to the fire, when you're far from your home; wherever you are, whatever your care, God is already there. when the river is dry, when the sun doesn't shine, when the shadows are long, when you're all outta' time, when the people you love you cannot comprehend, when you want to be real but can only pretend; wherever you are, whatever your care, God is already there. when the road makes a turn, when the detour is long, when the war has begun, when the border is drawn, when you're dying to sing but you can't hear the song, when your left becomes right and your right becomes wrong, when you feel you've arrived but not sure you belong, when you're true when you're blue, when you're weak when you're strong; wherever you are, whatever your care. God is already there.
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