You know that I am an awful pray-er. That it’s a constant stream of conscious jumble of thanksgiving and desperation. That I am easily distracted by birds and accidents and grocery lists. I yell frantically to You while chasing a 3 year-old out of the street and speak softly to You as a 5 month-old falls to sleep in my arms.
I am so thankful You hear me, however I pray.
I wonder, amidst all the world’s legitimate pain, if You have heard my pleas for Rylie? Have You heard me sobbing for my child’s voice… locked inside her? Have You heard me angry, asking You which school to choose and which bus to take and which specialist to demand? Have You heard me begging for peace in her heart when she cannot sound off her own frustration?
I forget that You see farther than I see… that the end, for You, is in sight and the Greater Story complete.
Have You heard me cheering for her? Cheering for the way You have pulled dark gray around her eyes? Cheering for the sweet way she grabs a new friend’s hand? Cheering for the understanding on her face when she signs ‘I’m sorry’?
Have You heard my rejoicing for Gideon? My child, whom You have blessed with a healthy appetite? Whom You you have given a new gift of calm? Whom You have taught how to fall asleep alone? Have You heard my deep breaths after all these months of insanity?
Thank You for these miracles, however great or small. They are not lost on me.
Have You heard me cry for myself? In pity? In shame? In denial of having a child with special needs? In defiance of having a child with leg braces? Have You heard me arrogantly say it’s not fair? Have You seen me cut corners and be lazy and take for granted the resources You’ve laid out before me?
I am so sorry. I could explain that I am weak. That I am tired. That I am scared. But, these are things You already know and forgive daily.
Please give me strength for another letter to insurance, for one more game of chase, for another week’s worth of night-time feedings. Please give me a song to sing when I have no words. Please give me chance to help someone else, that I could show them the grace You have shown me. Help me to be slow to anger. To be grateful. To be kind.
If You’re reading this up there, thank You. For all the things I’ve said and for all the things I’ve forgotten and for all the things I’m too shy to say… thank You for hearing me, however I pray.
August 16th, 2010 at 8:29 am
Oh, Katie, this may be my favorite post yet! You are such a beautiful lady, both inside and out, and I’m thankful to call you my friend! I appreciate you realness so much! Thanks for being you!
August 16th, 2010 at 9:04 am
Absolutely. He reads blogs. And He understands that prayer throughout a day is a fractured conversation, broken up by moments of panic and moments and intense gratefulness. Thank you for your honesty. I hope that He comments at some point today 😉
August 16th, 2010 at 9:16 am
Best post ever. Wait, did I say that on my last comment? I just changed my mind.
Beautiful.
August 16th, 2010 at 9:31 am
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have spoken so many words that resonate with me. You brought me to tears and to my own prayer. Thank you.
August 16th, 2010 at 9:43 am
Hard to type through the tears. Love you Kate, thanks for giving us the honor of hearing your heart’s cry.
August 16th, 2010 at 9:49 am
i love you. YOU are BEAUTIFUL. xo
August 16th, 2010 at 9:52 am
what a beautiful post….. so honest. I wish I had the courage to say stuff like that out loud…. You Rock!!!!
August 16th, 2010 at 10:11 am
You said a prayer for all of us with this one, Katie. Thank you.
August 16th, 2010 at 12:35 pm
Well-put, Margie.
Thank you, KatieKate, for being so open and raw and honest.
August 16th, 2010 at 3:05 pm
Amen.
August 16th, 2010 at 10:24 am
beautify-filled. thanks for sharing this.
August 16th, 2010 at 10:25 am
i meant to say, beauty-filled. sorry dude.
like beauty.
i don’t know what the heck beautify-filled is. but you can have that too if you want.
🙂
August 16th, 2010 at 10:47 am
Best. Post. Ever.
That was awesome.
August 16th, 2010 at 11:29 am
Okay I’m crying. Is it possible to ditto a prayer? I love you so much, Katie. Thank you for this.
August 16th, 2010 at 1:31 pm
You know He hears it all– and cries with you, cheers with you, holds your babies with you. You are so beautiful, and such a wonderful mother. Thank you for sharing this beautiful prayer post.
August 16th, 2010 at 1:44 pm
wow i really needed to read that right then! God is good. One of my dear friends here is a speech pathologists. She is the kindest most gentlest person I know. When I told her about Rylie awhile ago she said is sounded like apraxia. I wish you 2 knew each other. I know you would benefit one to the other.
August 16th, 2010 at 2:16 pm
What a beautiful post from a beautiful person!
August 16th, 2010 at 2:30 pm
He’s here. He hears.
August 16th, 2010 at 11:10 pm
awesome…
August 17th, 2010 at 8:25 am
beautiful!
August 17th, 2010 at 1:14 pm
O my father, I have moments of deep unrest– moments when I know not what to ask for reason of the very excess of my wants. I have in these hours no words for you, no conscious prayers for you. My prayer seems purely worldly; I want only the wings of a dove that I may flee away. Yet all the time you have accepted my unrest as prayer, you have interpreted its cry for a dove’s wings as a cry for you; you have received the nameless longing of my heart as the intercessions of your spirit. They are not yet the intercessions of my spirit. I know not what I ask. But you know what I ask, O my God. You know the name of that need which lies beneath my speechless groan. You know that, because I am made in your image, I can find rest only in what gives rest to you. Therefore, you have counted my unrest unto me for righteousness and have called my groaning your spirit’s prayer. Amen. -From a hymnal on our porch.
August 17th, 2010 at 2:37 pm
I believe that Mother’s are given a direct line to God. You have his number, and so do I, I will pray for you too!