It’s what we do when we get together at church-in Sunday School or Wednesday night Prayer Meeting-we take prayer requests.
It’s what we should do.
We are commanded to pray for one another.
I listen attentively, take notes, try to get the names spelled correctly-I’m the one who types the list for the weekly bulletin so I want to get it right.
Until...someone shares a request that sends my mind down a winding path of memory. My heart begins to beat the rapid tap-tap-tap warning of mounting anxiety. Death has come to another family’s door or is stalking them around the corner.
Some parent will stand by the casket of the child they bore and wonder how in the world they outlived their offspring.
And while I try to pray faithfully for all the requests shared, this one lodges in my throat and will not be ignored.
My heart is broken as theirs breaks.
I know only God can hold it together.
I breathe a prayer in: “God grant them strength, grant them mercy, grant them grace.”
I breathe a prayer out: “Jesus, Shepherd, carry them in Your arms. Don’t let their faith fail.”
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