We are just racing time...

...where's the finish line?

My friend Sharon's Dad passed away on Sunday and after the funeral, she said that her parents house felt oddly clean and quiet– especially in the living room where his lift chair sat empty. Just days before, Sharon's dad had fed himself, told her that he wanted to live and reached for her; but in the morning he was blue and still.

Sharon stepped up to the pulpit, turned her face to the sun coming in through the window and wondered how long her heart could continue to beat when she was so filled with pain. As she stood to speak at the funeral she began to hear whispers, to literally feel the prayers of all the friends, neighbors and family who were praying for her and her mother. They came to her like sunbeams, tiny bits of light splintering the great blackness of grief.

I’ve been thinking of Sharon’s experience on the stand since she described it to me. Any time that I think that my one prayer won’t make a difference, or am too shy to ask for prayers in my behalf, I’ll picture that celestial meteor shower of hope and love.

And, I’ll continue to offer, every night, every hour, a prayer for those I love.


How have you felt the power of prayer in your life?