“At first I found it very awkward to pray for someone I didn’t even know…The answers to [my] questions weren’t revealed as I prayed for Beverly, but I did find out how much the Lord loved her and that she was not forgotten by him. Many days I found myself in tears as I entered into prayer for her… God, I told him, I’ve grown to love Beverly…”
~ Susan Morin, “Letters to a Stranger,” Chicken Soup for the Family Soul
As a child, maybe 8, 9 or 10
I didn’t grasp what you were doing, Lord.
I didn’t know this feeling in me was anything unusual.
I didn’t question why.
I only knew…the gift you put in him reached out and touched my soul
With you…with him…
Mysteriously connecting… stranger to stranger.
Giving me a sense of him having lost his way home to you…though not really knowing why I thought so…or how I, so young, recognized an adult’s silent cry…
And making me want him to know you, reaching out to him…
The way you were making yourself known to me.
As his gift sang …
spirit of praise…
compassion into me,
You seemed to pour out watershed tears
of prayer…from you to me… for him.
Into my teens, I knew more, felt your leading
Understood deeper reasons of prayerful need,
Still… I did not grasp…
Could not know…
The depth and whys of your tears decanted out upon my heart for him…
A stranger to me in most ways…yet, somehow, not completely.
Tragedies in my own life, like a mirror held to what I knew of his,
Deepened my care
And I began to glimpse your tender, tender heart
Your promises into my words of prayer.
Encouraging me…cheering me…to speak them out over his life and loved ones
Like seeds placed in your hands to water with your unerring rain…
Words that can never go out empty
But oh so more than accomplish what you send them out to do.
Moments…so many accumulated time upon time moments of prayerful, fasting, lifting up to you…O Lord let your light rise upon him…
Still his gift sang …
light…spirit of praise…
compassion into me,
and you seemed to pour out watershed tears of prayer…from you to me… for him.
Some forty-plus years
Only YOU could pen,
Only YOU could sustain,
Only YOU could run like sand through an hourglass
— Timed down to his last fluttering breath —
Leave me teary-eyed…every time I contemplate hows and whys,
Open my eyes to incredulous wonder.
They make me know with greater truth… it hasn’t been so much me, but rather your anointing oil of intercession poured into me, a child, and kept going, over my life and his.
And the one word reason for it all is your… LOVE…for the one lost lamb.
Leading to a never-dreamed window of time you opened up in recent years
gone much too swiftly…
The written words sent out to a heart that was now listening
You…weaving our lives to intersect… so that he told me I had his ear…
And all of this, confirming,
Beyond anything I ever…ever… imagined.
Personally speaking your encouragement,
Your treasured love for him,
Your patient-for-a-lifetime, wooing heart —
And knowing days were growing short…
You…blessing me to send one last card… holding out your hand of hope…simple words of receiving prayer for his lips to you…
My trusting you to put it in his hands…one more time…
And when the news comes…the sad report that pools unshed in me…
A last breath…a last prayer ~
I ask you,
Lord…did you weave them together one last time? Is he really home?
Words dance lightly into my tears…and I think I hear your jubilant voice…
Rejoice! For this my son was lost, and today he is found!
In my humanness, I still long to know for sure…what maybe I won’t until heaven. Ask you to some way, somehow, have someone who may have taken his physical hand in prayer… let me know…
And yet… you comfort me beyond words with light upon my soul that assures,
After a lifetime of wooing prayers, would I ever let anything
hold me back from where I want to go?
And as I think of all this, I know with all that I am — his heart is where you wanted to go. So, O Lord, I can only breathe with living hope that has no words…
You have shown me years of how MUCH you love him…thereby grown your love in me…
Thank you that even unto his last breath, you did not forget him.
© Pam Depoyan
O, Let us meet by the river…
The beautiful, the beautiful, river.
O Let us meet by the river…
That flows by the throne of our God.
~ Robert Lowry, Hymn paraphrase,
Shall We Gather at the River
Joining the Five Minute Friday community with the one word prompt: Grasp (Um…okay, I’ll admit… this one was a little over the time limit… 🙂 But the heart of this piece has been behind my last several posts… all speaking of His victorious love.)
And with… Faith Filled Friday,
WIWW click here