The Power of Prayer

I came home Friday afternoon, and Facebook & Twitter were full of nothing but references to the events in Connecticut. I rarely watch the news.  Social media lets me know when there is something big going on.  The news is depressing.  Evil in this world is depressing.  And most media outlets sensationalize it. 

I maintain my life as a drama free zone.

What’s really important?

And not to diminish the tragedy and lost lives, because truly words cannot describe how horrible it is.  I mean that.  But the reaction seemed a little over the top in proportion to what happened.  And I feel sad saying that because shootings like this happen way too regularly.  Not always with little kids, and not always on this large a scale, but it happens too often.  And my Facebook newsfeed is seriously full of almost nothing but statements related to the event. Pray for everyone involved. Occasionally something about gun control laws.  But a lot of “pray for” statuses and pics.

I am in favor of prayer.  Prayer rocks.

Why aren’t we constantly in prayer? Why is my newsfeed not constantly flooded with pictures of candles or, better yet, puppies & kitties praying? Maybe we are all constantly in prayer. I suspect – based on my own personal experience and distractions – that this is not the case, though.

Before today’s stuff happened, I had my own prayer journey this week.

When we last talked, I had finally taken some action on the latest whisperings from God. He has seen fit recently to plant a phrase in my head from time to time. Different phrases at different times, and when I can’t shake it after a few days I usually realize it’s probably real and I should do something about it. 

This time a friend needed prayer.  And just as quickly, I needed it back.  We agreed to pray for each other.  And not in a “I’m going to re-tweet this picture” kind of way, we really mean it.

Many of you have figured out and / or heard I suffered a major wipeout last week, causing multiple bruises down one side of my body. A couple days later, I burned my hand pretty badly. What only a select few were aware of, though, is that I had to go through this past week without antihistamines.  Periodically my doc retests me to see if the various and sundry treatments are working – shots, namely – and if adjustments need to be made. To get a true read on the test results, I have to spend five days detoxing from that which keeps me from breaking out in hives on a regular basis.  In the past, by day two or three I have been itching uncontrollably.  Even the palms of my hands and the soles of my feet itch.  I come close to losing my mind trying not to scratch my skin off.  Try getting anything constructive done while you’re in that state.

This week I made it through relatively unscathed.  A little twinge here and there, but nothing, and I mean nothing like in the past.

I had asked for prayers for calmness. And calmness I got. I felt like I was wrapped in a big fleece blanket hug from God all week. I floated through the week. It was almost surreal.

What an awesome, amazing, divine surprise.

God. And prayer. Those are my only explanations for how I got through this week.

And it’s how I will continue to get through every week, every day, every moment.