When I first found Jesus, I didn’t know how to pray personal prayers to Him, and I underestimated the power of praying.
My first attempt was just hours after finding Him in a Walmart parking lot. I asked Him to get Jake his new scooter quickly because he could no longer get up the stairs to the bathroom and our bedroom on his own. I had to lift each foot while he pulled on the railing. That first official plea was answered promptly, the next day.
As things worsened for us, I began to pray more and more. Sometimes, prayers were answered instantly, especially in an emergency. God has taken far longer to answer other prayers though, some even years, and of course, there are the unanswered petitions which I’ve come to understand are either not God’s will or they’re not supposed to be answered yet.
I just knew I wanted to speak prayers that meant something. Growing up Catholic, I had recited the Lord’s Prayer and the Hail Mary thousands of times but not one of them was said with any meaning or feeling.
I discovered some things about prayer from the Bible. I learned Jesus likes us to appeal to Him privately.
“But you, when you pray, go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in the secret place; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly.” (New King James Version, Matt. 6.6)
That worked well for me since most of my prayers were said outside at the campfire by myself.
I also learned God wants us to call upon Him all the time. “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”(1 Thess. 5. 16-18)
In the beginning, I was just praying out at the fires, but soon, I began saying them around Jake’s bed if I had his permission, and when emergencies arose. Since there were more and more crises, I began praying everywhere, in every room in the house counting the bathroom, in the car, at the hospitals, while eating, etc.
Even while sleeping, if I woke up for a minute or to flush Jake’s feeding tube, they started immediately. This was never done as a ritual or to please God. This was done to survive. Looking back, the most important thing I did as a caregiver wasn’t caregiving, it was praying.
Then there were times I prayed even before I knew Jesus, during my second overdose, screaming for “Whoever Was There,” to save my life before I went unconscious, and later, imploring “Whatever Was There” to come into my life.
There were invocations while having dry heaves; screaming, rageful, “Why are you allowing this to happen to us,” entreaties. Prayers for protection, sometimes sobbing so hard that only Jesus could ever understand me, or on the edge of losing my faith, shrieking out, “Get behind me, Satan, in the name of Jesus, begone!” Thousands of supplications saying nothing but ‘Jesus, help me, help me, have mercy on me!”
There were devotions of gratitude especially after Jake’s near death experiences of which he had many. I also thank God with gratitude prayers for all the ways He’s saved me that I’ve never been aware of. Due to prayer, God has taken suicidal thoughts and replaced them with joy.
One of the most important prayers He’s answered was to help me to become independent.
I also learned that we are called upon to pray for others.
“He saw that there was no man, and wondered that there was no intercessor.” (Isa. 59:16)
As a caregiver, almost all of my prayers were devoted to Jake.
Sometimes, I think all of my prayers are in a special place in heaven, the answered and unanswered ones. At first, I imagined all my devotions piling up in a big box in heaven, now, I imagine I’ve prayed enough to fill up a large room, maybe even a banquet hall.
Whether answered or not, I do know this. It’s up to me to get God to hear them, for myself and others, and this takes time and energy. It’s the most important thing I do in life. It’s real work, but I don’t mind because after seeing so many needs get answered, I have hope that the unanswered prayers I’m waiting on now are soon going to lead to positive results! God hasn’t abandoned us. He’s still here.
