The Power of Prayer

I can attest first hand to the power of prayer.

In January 2020 four of us gals began a little weekly discussion group using a mutual friend’s book of reflections on scripture. One of our gals is a tech person so when Covid struck we were one of the first to move onto Zoom and we’re still going strong. In fact, we picked up a couple more women and have grown closer. Our little group has become a mainstay for all of us.

Well, the other week I had a big cry. MS is not following its usual course and had me worried. Call to various professionals to check in got buried in the Covid storm. So, I had this big cry with my girls and asked if they would pray for me. They most graciously and generously did, each verbalizing their heart. And here’s what happened.

That weekend I had a writers conference scheduled so booked the entire weekend off. As it turned out I had the wrong weekend and found myself with three unscheduled days on my hands.

Worried I might get back into the hole of worry again I didn’t allow myself the luxury. Early on Saturday I put on one of my favorite praise CDs and followed along with the accompanied booklet of lyrics all the way through. For two whole cycles. (That’s what I miss about Spotify. I remember the days of doing that with a brand-new LP record). Anyhow, that in itself made me feel so much better.

With a fresh relaxed mind, I was inspired to do this and catch up on that. Again, I felt good and uplifted. I sat for another song or two reading the lyrics.

The whole weekend just flowed seamlessly like that but more importantly gentle ideas bubbled up about my troubling concerns.

One of the things I found so distressing is what things would look like. I right away went to the worst-case scenarios and them happening overnight. What bubbled up over the course of the weekend were little pockets of change and how I could adapt to those in baby steps one at a time. I recalled earlier progression steps, and how they turned out.

Losing my driver’s license was the worst thing possible. Yet I’ve come to love my scooter. I just passed the 2000 km mark cruising the side streets and back alleys of this beautiful city. Or moving into assisted living. I thought I’d die but I love living here. I love the area (my second choice remember) and am so glad I didn’t wait. I couldn’t imagine weekly shopping in these Covid days. So those thoughts reassured me the story wasn’t over. If He brought me here, He had a plan and would go the distance. And I could be at peace with it.

When I reported back to the group the next week that although the system was still plugged and little had shifted on that front, plenty had shifted on the inside. I was once again at peace, inspired. That yes, I could handle things because I was given ideas of how they might look one baby step at a time, and that wasn’t near as scary as gulping down the whole enchilada as I had been.

Yes, the power of prayer is awesome. Try it. You might find yourself happy.

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