This past weekend, Ken and I went out to dinner with another couple. The four of us try very hard to get together about once a month, which isn’t easy with the busy lives we lead, but it’s crucial that we make the effort. We’ve known John and Alix for almost twenty years. Alix and I have been in the same Bible study group for nearly that long. Our kids went to the same school from first grade through high school. Ken and John went on a mission trip to Guatemala together. Our friendship is based on all these things, but what really holds it together is our faith. I have learned so much about prayer, faith, and healing from these wonderful people.
My long-time readers probably know that Ken was in politics for a very long time, almost half our marriage. His political career came to an end during a very tumultuous time in our lives. It was difficult for all of us. Imagine that the person you love most in the world is made into a scapegoat, has his name and reputation smeared by people he trusted, and is dragged through the mud for no other reason than political motivations. It was a heart-breaking time for me, to see my husband’s face on the news and read his name in the paper and know that everything being said was a lie. Rather than being relieved when the state ethics board cleared him 100%, I was angry because our lives had been turned upside down and because the media never once acknowledged his innocence other than a teeny, tiny one paragraph blip hidden at the bottom of an inner page in the local paper. I asked my husband over and over again how he was dealing with all this, how he was coping with the loss of trust and friendship he had, how he showed no anger toward the people who did this to hm, and his response to me was always the same. He simply said, “I pray for them.”
Now, if that doesn’t stop you in your tracks and make you look inward, nothing will.
“But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Matthew 5:44
But there’s more to those four little words than I could comprehend at the time. So much more.
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A few years ago, our family took a vacation to Canada. While there, we visited the Basilica of St. Anne de Beaupre. Upon entering the church, the first thing one notices are the displays of canes, crutches, and other medical devices left behind by those who have been healed in the church. While standing and observing one such display, I watched as a man and woman, presumably part of a tour group, walked into the church. The man wondered aloud about the display. The woman read to him from a nearby sign that explained the significance of the objects. The man laughed quite loudly and said “what a joke” before walking away. I could have been angered, annoyed, or even offended by his reaction and words, but instead, I felt sorry for him.
nights ago, a friend of mine from high school lost her long struggle with cancer. She was 45, unmarried, and without children. She had so much life still to live! This morning, our world was rocked with the news that another family friend has passed on. Even more tragic, this young man was just twenty-one years old; his life was only just beginning. My friend died knowing that she was being held, as the song and Psalm say, “in the palm of His hand.” The young man did not, and I wonder if that would have made all the difference.
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