But I prayed...

The summer of 2009 is a significant time in my memory bank.  Sometime that Spring, our daddy had come to the realization that he was nearing the end of his journey on earth.  That sweet attitude was accompanied by a relaxed spirit and willingness to let us love on him and accept the love he had to give us.

We often shared a cup of coffee in the late afternoon and enjoyed chatting - about everything from sports to politics to our faith and what I was hearing from my children?

Here's a conversation I remember all too well.

Six year old Allie was in her third year of ITP (a rare auto immune disorder that affects her platelets- her blood’s ability to clot properly.)  My bright and bubbling second grandchild is the fourth of my parents great grands.   

"I've been praying for Allie," daddy began.  "And I just can't understand why the Lord hasn't healed her".

I thought his sentiments were very sweet.  However, I knew that he knew - as I do - that just because we pray about something doesn't mean it will happen.  That doesn't mean we don't pray about it anyway.

This week I am especially mindful of a time that I kept praying - even when I didn't feel like my prayers were being answered.

My third child, Raymond Lee Parker, III was born on August 10, 1977.  The delivery experience of his older sisters Becca and Renee had been quick.  I even conversed with the doctor as Renee made her entrance.  This one was different - about 14 hours different.  And it would required a Cesarean Section.  His heart rate had decreased; the cord was wrapped around his neck.  

I was heavily sedated.  I didn't have a clue what was happening.

I just remember his dad telling me we had a little boy, he was okay but they needed to "watch him closely" so they had taken him to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit in another part of the hospital.  The next hours and days were frightening to say the least.  I developed an infection.  I couldn't go into the NICU.  I knew I had a little boy, but I felt so disconnected.

I was trying to pray but it seemed as if my prayers were bouncing off the ceiling.

After what seemed like endless hours...it was as if an angel came - and I heard "it's okay to love him, if I take him, I'll give you the strength to bear it".

That was 39 years ago.  I'm still loving him.. and I might add, I am still praying for him and thanking God for the great blessing my third child has been to me.

So I know that God answers prayer.

And back to my dad's question -  Allie still deals with low platelets.

Is God not answering our prayer?

And why not?

Should we stop praying?

I don't think so.  Because what I believe to be significant in this process of "praying" is that we are taking life out of our hands - and trusting.  

Sometimes the answer is yes, when the answer is no, God gives us grace to accept it.

I didn't say that this is easy!

May your life be filled with enough sunshine

to make you appreciate the shadows