Prayers for A

I awoke feeling guilty for complaining about my lovely old lady medicine. I am humbly grateful that there are wonderful medicines for me to take. I just pop two little pills and hopefully these signs of aging will magically disappear, or perhaps miraculously heal would be the better analogy.

There, that's off my chest.

I spoke with my oldest best friend last night. We grew up a few miles from each other. We rode the same bus for hours each day. Our grandparents went to high school together. Our ties and history go way back.

We don't get the chance to talk everyday, but we can dive right into the deep stuff and completely understand where the other one is coming from. K was trying to explain to a co-worker how she loves to hear the snow fall. Her co-worker thought she was crazy, but I understood immediately. I grieve for my children that they haven't had the chance to stand in the field on the farm where I grew up and listen to the snow fall. To watch the trees across the field glisten with ice and hear them creak and crack as the wind blows. It's hard to describe the wonder of feeling like the only one in a snow storm.

K's dear grandma A is on my heart. She's 94. She and my granddaddy were the leads in their high school senior play. Picturing that cracks me up. K's grandma is finally suffering from memory problems. And she realizes it. She's so frustrated. As Grandma A says, "This medicine is not fixing my brain!" (Her normal meds aren't supposed to, but she's forgotten what her medications treat.)

So today, I lift up prayers for a dear woman who loves the Lord with all her heart, yet fears the next step of her life's journey. I pray that God brings peace to the wonderful women in their family that will so deeply grieve her passing, someday, and at the same time celebrate her birth into eternal life with God. I pray they have the time together to say the deep feelings on their hearts and that God's fingerprints are all over this experience so that their faith grows exponentially. Amen.