Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: RESOLUTION (01/07/16)
- TITLE: Re-solution - Much More Prayer
By Judith Gayle Smith
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Lord knows I need the practice as much as you need the prayer. One of our few friends was just diagnosed with liver failure. So frightening - he swells with fluid pressing on his lungs. He appears ten months pregnant, and becomes hysterical, unable to breathe.
I do not pray enough, I know this. I cannot flip through generic prayer, blanketing all who need it. Not only must I resolve to pray more - but to get down on my heart's figurative knees and break my apathy. I am selfish, praying for the immediate, seeking to ease discomfort and pain for those I love. I ignore the monumental prayer of healing salvation over healing the body. My resolve is weak, as am I.
I made this resolution to pray more last month - why wait for the new year? If my Lord impresses this on my heart, I must begin immediately, if not sooner. I must and will prayerfully pray more.
Our nephew visited last month, bringing treats for our little dog who awaits his coming with open mouth. Our little boy was still walking a wee bit sideways, resulting from a mild seizure and Jody noticed. I had brushed it off as just how cute he looked - didn't suspect a problem - too close to it. Jody also noted a bump atop our pup's head - again I had missed it.
The following week, our pup had another seizure. This one lasted almost a week. Our veterinarian advised that up to three seizures a year were "not to worry." This was his fourth, and very frightening.
He came out of it, thankfully, and was almost himself again. Then our friend, dying of liver failure came over, seeking mayonnaise for his hamburger, which he accidentally dropped to the floor. The floor is our dog's dinner plate - anything that lands there is his. Our friend, who himself needs prayer, screamed bloody blue murder at our pup, who has taking ways - and our baby had another seizure. He stood like a stone statue, eyes glazed and unseeing.
I called him to me to comfort him - and he lunged and bit my thumb. He was as shocked as me, and tumbled over into a somersault and ran and hid under the kitchen table. Right back to his stone statue pose. I was too frightened to pray.
He recovered somewhat the next day and we took him to his veterinarian who noted his slightly adorable wobbly walk. Questioning, they took his temperature, then started manipulating his muscles. They found the lump atop his skull. I was too frightened to pray.
The next day they biopsied the lump. An Osteochondroma Sarcoma - aka "fried tumor" which breaks open like a snowball, spreading throughout his little frame. It is firmly attached to his brain, central nervous system and skull. The biopsy spread it further. I really started praying.
Our little "cone head", wearing a green protective plastic collar is acting almost normal (for him) again. He comes alive when people food aromas permeate the air. He still sleeps under the blankets at my hip, and protests bitterly the collar protecting his nine itchy stitches. He has our love, and it is not difficult to pray for our little "knothead" as my hubby has lovingly referred to him for all of his eight years . . .
He is endearing, albeit not enduring. He was snuggled tight against me last night, full belly and scratched in all the right places. I looked over at my husband and started to say "This is how I pray he goes, contented and . . ." My love interrupted me to ask why I am always so defeatist? Where are my prayers? Where is my faith? Where is my brand-spanking new resolve?
The telephone rings - a sweet girlfriend who wants to know how we are faring. I pour it all out on her, grieving the horror our "adopted son" is enduring. Then I asked her about her health. Let her know I've been praying for her (again, generically) because I love her.
She just found out she has breast cancer.
Praying - without ceasing . . .
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