When You Can't Pray

Last Monday afternoon, I got the call that every child dreads. My dad was admitted to the hospital and was in intensive care. Every thing in my life disappeared. I no longer became the Type-A, time scheduled oriented person I've developed into over the last thirty-four years. I left the office with enough work to keep my mind busy, called The Hero and headed to the hospital. Most of last week is a complete blur. Between the hospital, the office and home, our lives have taken some what of a slower pace.
Dad is stable but still in the hospital with a blood clot. But I've discovered something about myself when approached with tragedy; I find it very hard to pray. I don't make grand promises to God, argue my case with Him or bemoan the current circumstances. I try to approach the throne and nothing comes out.

This at first was very alarming. I wondered if I was missing something in my theology. Until yesterday morning. My legal assistant walked in my office before I headed to the hospital and closed the door.
She asked me if I had any idea how many people were praying for my family. And as we approached the throne room together, she prayed over me while I sobbed through her requests on my behalf.
And then it all became quite clear to me. While these past days have felt extremely lonely, we have in fact been surrounded. The texts, phone calls, hugs, sincere emails and encouraging thoughts have engulfed my family with reminders that I don't need to be concerned with my inability to pray these days; so many of you are doing it for us. It is such an example of the Church at her best and I am honored to be a part of it.

From the bottom of my heart, from the entirety of my family, THANK YOU for loving us through this period of our lives.


- Hugs n Love,

Lindsey