THE PRAYER OF A DESPERATE WOMAN

LORD, YOU ARE THE MIGHT IN MY LIFE. I am learning to surrender, to accept my weaknesses as being as much a part of my life as my strengths. This is very hard for me. I am learning to explore the gifts and talents You’ve given me within the confines of my limitations, and this is even harder. If the day comes in my journey with this disease when I find I can’t do even that any more, I will still be able to pray . . . to spend time with You. And I will remain grateful for that.

I KNOW YOU SEEK ME IN CONVERSATION, just as you seek all of us. That puzzles me. What could I have to say about my day and my ziggy-zaggy thinking patterns that could possible interest you? It’s clearly not a give-and-take conversation. I spend my time complaining, pouring out my troubles, voicing my hopes, making requests, asking for guidance and for help, and reminding myself of how grateful I am. Who would want to hear that over and over?

I’M REMINDED OF MY CHILDREN. Our conversations really have to be mostly about what’s going on in their lives. I don’t worry them with the nitty-gritty of this boring old cancer. Unless they bring it up, why should I? It’s not anything they’ve experienced (thank you, Lord), and they don’t really know what’s going on. I’m not sure they should.

FOR MY PART, I really do want to know what’s going on in their lives. One struggles to find a job. The other has stayed up all night with a sick child. These are things I’ve done too—they’re a basis for a relationship.

PERHAPS THE WAY I FEEL about my children is the way You feel about me, Lord. Given Your infinite intelligence, if our conversation is going to have any meaning for me, I’m the one who has to set the foundation for it.

SO, LORD, teach me to open the door a little wider from my side. I’m desperate—really desperate—to have a closer relationship with You.

AMEN.

(You’re blessed. Be a blessing.)