Yesterday was categorically rough. Family drama, parenting issues, adoption trauma, therapy appointments, stress fractures, missed babysitting gigs. We couldn’t catch our breath before suffering another sucker punch.
My heart needed lifting.
There are a few voices that have prayed over me for so many years that when I’m in the midst of struggle and their prayer fills my space, tears just come and I’m upheld. Laura is one such friend.
While being casted for new orthotics (hello grandma) and learning all about stress fractures, I read a text from her asking if I was still bringing Celia over to babysit for her 4 youngest kids. Um. No. I thought it was for today. She quick shuffled her plans, dropping her kids at my house where Celia was watching Camilla to take her oldest to her high school orientation. Ugh. Another detail missed and let down added to the discouraging day.
A couple of hours later we found our way to my kitchen. We sent the kids outside to play and I spilled my heart and tears. She didn’t try to give advice. She didn’t excuse my harsh words to my kids. She listened, and then she prayed. Not a fancy prayer of magical words, but just honest heartfelt words, speaking truth over me and asking for things I didn’t have words for.
She’s been praying over me for the last 12 years. She continues to show me what it means to love well and intentionally, being inconvenienced for the sake of others. Thank you for loving me so well, sweet friend.