"I am large. I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Sunday, February 03, 2008

A Prayer

"Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." ~ Mark 9:24

A woman suffers a miscarriage.
Parents find out their son has autism.
A father prays for a better job with better health benefits for his child.
Parents grieve the death of their son.
A daughter visits her father with late stage pancreatic cancer.
A daughter goes home to be with her mother during her operation.
A man has no money for his gallstone operation and relies on his daughter who can barely make ends meet.

Yes, yes, M. Scott Peck was right. Life is difficult. It wasn't that I didn't believe him the first time I read that line. But knowing that at 19 is different from knowing it in your bones at 37.

Life is a bitch, I sometimes think. And there are times when it seems to come in waves and the intervals are so short that I find I am overwhelmed, more so than usual. My heart is heavy and my emotions flip flop from fear to hope and back again.

Ever since Jack, I've struggled with prayer. But I still pray. Everyday. I still go and meet my God. Sometimes in silence. Sometimes in tears. I can't bear not to, but when I'm there, that's all I am. It's not so much a force of habit. It's a relationship and I know He is there and I show up. Afraid to pray for anything and afraid not to.

These are our lives. Help us, Lord. Be with us.

My spiritual advisor reminded me this past week: "God is faithful." I believe. Help my unbelief.

(Photo credit: ~The Otis in 'Consin~)

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