Inspirational Story
A Prayer of
the Heart
Kristin P. Peura
Gracious
Lord, Just as we see the light from the tomb as the Good News of
your love for us, we see in the singular act of raising up your
Son to everlasting life, the possibility that we can embrace new
life, too. And just as the mothers-to-be in our congregation are
poised to embrace the new life that issues from their bodies as a
child to be born into their families, so, too, do the elderly
among us look forward to embracing new life in their death into
your body.
I see your people - your faithful people - making their way
through life, torn between forces that have the power to pull us
all apart. In sharing our secret hearts with each other, we try
to unburden ourselves, putting into words what lives inside our
skin. But oftentimes we present ourselves only as we would have
another see us and not as we perceive we really are. But you,
gracious God, you see into the very heart and soul of us.
I do not believe that it is ever your desire that your children
should suffer. Why then, Lord, is there so much pain in your
creation?
There is pain in Grammie's life as the fall she sustained two
years ago and the recent surgery and heart problems have changed
her way of life forever. She is much less mobile now and must
depend on a walker to move even the few steps from her bed into
the bathroom. A nearly unspeakable fear grips David and me
whenever the telephone rings in the middle of the night. We
wonder if it will be news of Grammie falling again.
There is pain in the uncertainty which fester both in Grammie's
life and in ours. We do not know if these illnesses with which
Grammie lives are the beginning of the end or if there is more
suffering in store for the matriarch of our family. She suffers
from diabetes, and must take twice daily doses of the insulin
which she currently administers. The bilateral hearing aids she
wears allow her to hear only, at best, 40% of the conversation
swirling around her. She is nearly blind and her decreasing sight
prohibits her creative mind from reading. And while her artistic
heart and mind are capable still of painting beautiful
watercolors, her eyes can no longer differentiate between the
colors on her palate or the shapes her fingers pencil on the
canvas. The stroke she suffered years ago imprinted its mark on
the left side of her body and now her right, which had been her
strength, is broken, too. And now that she is quite infirm, she
relies much more on her family to make the decisions for her that
change her life so drastically. This is not to say that she has
given up, for she has not. But age and illness and the passage of
time have left their indelible marks on her and she is
occasionally confused, sometimes having difficulty thinking
things through.
But in this brokenness, Lord, there is tremendous faith and
grace. And it is Grammie whom you use to disseminate the
compassion of Jesus Christ to me.
When she is able to attend Peace, after the service, and
sometimes even in its midst, little children gravitate toward
this frail, elderly woman perhaps because they sense a kindred
spirit. In spite of the heaviness she bears there was a twinkle
in her eye as five year old Nikki ran to her to give her a hug
and to whisper a confidence. "Guess what?" she said a
year ago, "I have a new baby brother and he spits all
over!" "Wow," says Grammie, "I do too!"
Before she was confined to the assisted living program at Our
Lady of Peace, a residential care facility in Charlottesville,
her pleasure was to bring a ray of sunshine into the lives of
others whom she deemed less fortunate than herself. Grammie would
bake muffins with little candy hearts in them and teeter up and
down the hallways with her basket of goodies over her arm,
knocking on doors, bringing moments of grace into the lives of
her friends. Occasionally when she would go to the apartment door
of someone she thought she knew but had not actually met, a new
friend was made simply because Grammie cared enough to share
herself with the stranger who did not remain one long. And your
light shone a little brighter and much warmer for her being your
hands and heart that day.
Even now that Grammie's living arrangements preclude visiting
others, she carries on a ministry of cards in spite of her
blindness: condolence cards when a beloved spouse dies, leaving a
whole in the heart of the survivor as big as the ache that
festers in Grammie to this day as she lost her life partner of
more than 50 years three years ago; friendship cards,
commemorating little daily victories over the forces that tend to
wear us down; and birthday cards in honor of the momentous
occasion of simply being enough alive to be surprised with it for
another year. Sometimes, in spite of her good intentions, a
sympathy card will be delivered to the mailbox of one who is
celebrating a birthday. And we all laugh, but gently, when we
hear that her eyesight, but not the compassionate eyes of her
heart, has failed her again.
Even though I am busy, Lord, help me to remember that it is the
closeness of her family that brings Grammie the most pleasure.
When I sit down and touch her, listening to the stories that are
repeated over and over again, I am strengthened both in the
giving and in the receiving, for it is through this grand old
woman that you pour your spirit. I see it. I hear it. I sense it
through others. And I live it because it lives in me, too.
But, Lord, there is pain in not knowing what lies in store for
any of us. For even where there is great faith, do not doubts
steal into our hearts in the darkness of the night? And, of
course, Grammie has doubts, but they are not nearly as big as her
knowing your grace. So she lives, giving thanks to you for simply
this one day that spreads out before her as she arises each
morning and through which she must live. And in the living is
giving. And in the giving is love. And in the love, you are there
for all of us to know.
Guard our Grammie, Lord, against facing more than she has
strength to bear. Seal into her heart the knowledge that her
future will not be fraught with pain, but is a glorious step she
will one day take. Give her the ability to remember your love
even when she is forgetful of it. Keep her steadfast in her faith
so that in her living it, she knows that you still have a mission
for her to complete. Give her family the gift of time to spend
with her, and in the process, help us realize that in the doing
of it, it is we who are blessed most of all. Amen