For years when someone was sick or facing a huge challenge, I would call my mom and ask her to pray for them. Calling in Mom was like calling in the cavalry. She believed steadfastly in the power of prayer. In my eyes, she was really, really good at it. If you had my mom praying for you, you had one mighty prayer warrior on the case.
And for years when anyone would ask me to pray for them or someone they loved, I would do it. But I always felt unqualified. Like I wasn’t faithful enough, holy enough, churched enough or knowledgeable enough. I never seemed to have the right words. So I would just talk to God the best way I knew how at that moment.
Two years ago my dear friend Linda called me with news that her son-in-law had just been in an explosion at work and was being flown to the burn unit at University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. She asked me to pray for him. Mom was still with us then. So I went inside, told her what had happened and asked her to say a rosary with me for Bob.
I didn’t worry about whether I was qualified. This was serious. If our prayers could tip the scales in Bob’s favor in any way at all, we needed to get on it. Mom picked up her rosary beads and I opened up my rosary app and we prayed. And we kept praying in the days that followed, as Bob fought for his life and began to improve.
Something about that experience changed the way I look at prayer. It gave me a swift kick out of my self-doubt and strengthened my faith.
It also made me realize that being asked to pray for someone is a profound expression of love and trust. Linda loved me enough to reach out for help at a terrifying moment and trusted that I would indeed help by sending up prayers to God for healing.
I pray a lot now. In the morning and the evening. In the moment when I am scared or I see something that worries me or that I believe will be made stronger by God’s love. Or when someone texts me to send up a prayer right now. Consider it sent.
I’m convinced that the eloquence of the words doesn’t matter. What matters is simply having a conversation with God, no matter how clumsy or imperfect you think it is.
I know very little about the Bible, so on January 1, I started listening to the Bible in a Year podcast with Father Mike Schmitz on the Hallow app. After Father Mike reads the day’s scriptures, he prays. Rather, he just riffs with God. It’s so not perfect. He’ll get tied up in his words sometimes and admits it. But the message of his prayer is always clear and impactful. Hearing him talk to God in his passionate and very human way has allowed me to feel better about talking to God off script and just being real with him about my frailties, uncertainties and pleas for the people I love.
I’m learning that God is here. Always. God is in you and in me. God listens, knows and will speak to you through the Holy Spirit when you still your heart. Prayer changes things, and it changes you.
My stepdaughter Leslie has stage two breast cancer and is undergoing chemotherapy. She’s always loved butterflies, thus the image of the monarch at the top of this post. I believe that with good medical treatment, the love of her family and friends (Team Leslie) and the powerful love of our healing God, Leslie is going to beat cancer.
And so I’d like to ask you now to pray for Leslie. That God will continue to give her strength and heal her.
Pray the Lord’s Prayer. Pray with beautiful words that rise up out of your soul. Pray with any words that come to mind or with no words—just a quiet moment with God. Pray with all of us who love Leslie. And I hope you will feel our love coming back to you.
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