Monday, May 11, 2009

He Prayed for Me

We were at our friends place, Saturday. Their twin sons had a 6 year birthday party.

The food is always worth attending these parties for and so is the fun. Well, the children were chasing around a raised brick bed of hedges—the girls chasing boys with plastic clubs and the boys chasing girls with plastic guns and swords. You can imagine the squealing, screaming and threatening noise accompaniment.

A woman from our church and I had gathered up the plates after the adults had finished eating seafood on a bed of egg noodles as well as a feta cheese salad, pork tenderloin and sliced baked potatoes. The adults were stuffed but looking forward to Jeff’s (the boys’ dad and our chef) grand finale cake. We were chatting as we walked toward the kitchen window and I carried about eight plates. Unable to see past the plates, we turned the corner a little too close to the raised bricks.

I was stopped hard by these monster bricks and went flying forward, though I was trying my level best not to drop the plates (these were real and heavy, not plastic) and to catch myself at the same time. The plates skittered across the paving stones at ground level, not breaking, while all the silverware went on clattering. I got up with only a nice scrape down the front and side of my shin. It seems I’m becoming accident prone.

We were able to enjoy a beautiful three berry-topped white chocolate cake in the sunshine under every kind of blossoming tree and bush. The children were glad to eat the centers of their cakes and leave the berries for their grateful parents.

Later in the day, after we had returned home. I noticed the scrape was weepy and wouldn’t stop, so I decided to read a book with my leg up on the couch. Hunter played on the floor with his Legos, but got up to check on my leg now and then.

“Oh! Ow! Mom, I can’t look at your blood. It’s so gross!” Hunter would cringe, sit down and build awhile, then repeat the whole thing again. He was full of questions about whether or not I still had any skin under there and when the scabs would cover everything up.

Hunter went out of the room awhile, then came back rushing toward me, flopped his long arms over my shoulders and said, “Mommy, I want to pray for you.”

“Okay…” I said.

“Dear Jesus, I want to pray for my mommy. She got hurt at the birthday party and scraped her leg. Now there’s blood. Please take the blood away, because I really love my mommy. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.” He kissed my face all over and hugged me tightly.

I had never heard my son pray such a sincere prayer before. Tears slipped on down my face.

The wound still smarts, but it’s just a scrape. It will soon be fine, But I treasure that heartfelt prayer offered so lovingly to our God!

Now it is my turn to pray. I’ve gotten word that my grandfather, who means the world to me, has had a stroke/seizure in the last 24 hours. He lost use of his left side, but the medicine they have given him has brought use back to his left side. Of course, he is still at the hospital having a myriad of tests done to determine what damage is done. You can imagine how anxious I am to see him and how hard it is to be in Sweden while Gramps is in this state.

I will be back home for a short while starting Monday the 18th. My great hope is that I’ll get to be with him and we can talk as we have my whole life. But I don’t want to wish anything that would leave a 93 year-old man in a state of misery.

In the process of finding all this out, I learned that one of my grandfather’s sisters died within 24 hours of Gramps’ stroke. It’s a little much to handle.

But our God sees and knows. He is in control. Thank you, God, for saving my grandfather this time. You have saved him from many fatal diseases and have chosen to save him now. I pray for him, now, that he’ll have the best care and that, just maybe, I’ll get to be with him several times while I’m home!

Maybe you have a loved one who is suffering and for whom you are fervently praying. I’m sure our Father in heaven is touched to hear His children pray for each other!

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Weather Poem

The month of April was unusual, say the Southern Swedish locals. No rain but a five minute mist one day. The Rapeseed flowers bloomed early, with barely the fragrance they usually carry into the breeze.

People were already sunbathing, gardening, having picnics and barbeques--but then I've told you that, already.

April was also poetry month. A friend and I participated in the Writer's Digest Poetic Asides blog challenge to write a poem a day from the prompts given by Robert Lee Brewer. Then we ran out of April.

We ran out of sun in these parts, too! Never mind that, but the wind is trying to come down the chimneys, through the tiny cracks in the window and door frames and stress my tired brain. I'm amazed that the jackdaws, sparrows, golden great tits, pheasants and rabbits are not at all bothered by this wind, going about their daily routines with as much fervor as usual.

Enough of the other observations. Here is a poem, prompted by among the daily prompts my friend and I are using to keep writing something every day.

Culprit Wind

Wind whipping ‘round
without form or boundary
bends reeds, grasses, trees
flings rain dries it out again
flashes on each pond ripple
maligns the tulips one petal
at a time leaving cryptic
petal messages in the garden