No Shy Prayers

Beloved:

First the church news.  Secondly, as church news has to do with prayer.

Ann Damon took a spill last Wednesday and broke her hip.  She sailed through surgery on Thursday and moved to the Meadowood Pavilion on Sunday where she will stay for a few weeks of rehabilitation.  Her spirits are good.  She loves receiving flowers and cards.  I’ll let you know later in this week when she’s ready for visitors.  

It’s my habit to pray with folks when I visit them at the hospital.  I like doing it and most folks expect it.  But praying over Ann is a little nerve wracking for me.  Because, if Ann Damon has ever prayed over you, you know she believes in healing.  

Many years ago I broke my arm in a car wreck.  Comminution was the technical term for the fracture Comminution is the reduction of solid materials from one average particle size to a smaller average particle size, by crushing, grinding, cutting, vibrating, or other processes.  The doctor decided to try a closed reduction first instead of surgery, saying he was doubtful it would work but worth the try. Ann prayed over me at the hospital first.  Ten days of bedrest with hand above your elbow, elbow above your heart  were my discharge instructions.  I took my twenty pound, casted arm home and laid in bed for two days during which my hand swelled so badly I had to go back to the hospital to have the cast sawed open to relieve the pressure.  The doctor plastered another cast on top of the original and told me ever so kindly that while the reduction seemed to be holding I should be prepared for how crooked my arm would be.  Only Carl knew he’d said that.  And, apparently, the Lord who saw fit to tell Ann.  

Another day lying abed with my hand above my elbow, elbow above my heart passed.  Mid morning Ann called, “I need to come over and pray over your arm.”  She came, laid both her hands on my cast and repeatedly told (not asked, told) the Lord to straightened my arm out, that I had babies to tend, work to do and both my arms needed to be straight and strong.  She said amen, patted my head and went on with her day.     


Eight weeks passed. Time to take off the last cast.  Dr. Doster again warned me not to be disappointed.  He was the surprised one, bringing other doctors in to show off his closed reduction.  Carl and I just smiled.    

I believe in healing, but one might not know it from the shy prayers I pray when one of my lambs has bones to knit.  I don't even feel shy until Ann falls down. Praying over her feels like offering Michael Jordan a few basketball tips, explaining chess to Bobby Fischer, showing Fred Astaire how to dance . . . . . you get the idea.  

None of which Ann would concede.  Praying isn’t a sport.  Praying for each other isn’t a contest.  But still ~ we are the lucky ones.  Don’t forget to send Ann a card.  

~ peace & prayers, pastor annette