Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer utters itself.

I'm never ill. Not properly. Of course I get sore throats and colds - and make a great big fuss about them - but painful unexplained illness isn't for me. Or hasn't been until now.

And somehow amidst all the pain and fear of the what-ifs I lost sight of God. I struggled to pray - didn't even think to pray apart from the odd quickly uttered 'Help me!'

So I'm really pleased that lots of other people did manage to pray for me. And I'm very grateful to you one and all. 

Please keep praying that my outpatient appointment comes through soon and that whatever the problem is can be resolved easily. Also that I stop fretting and worrying that the pain will come back in the meantime. And that the what-ifs are kept at bay.

The title of this post is from a poem called Prayer by Carol Ann Duffy:
Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child’s name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside, the radio’s prayer –
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.

A prayer for my bambino

Having written a prayer for the first two of my first-born grandchildren it was only right that I should write one for my little Italian baby.

A prayer for my bambino
You are a child of the world, a child born out of and into love. The journal of your life is yet to be written, blank pages for you to write your own story. And it will be an adventure story.

I pray that your life will be long and filled with love. I pray that you will grow strong and healthy in body and spirit. I pray that you will find delight in the ordinary and excitement in the extraordinary.

You can read the rest of it here.

P.S. Do you like my wonderful artwork?!!

Well, God, what are you going to do?

Last night, straight after circuit training, I went to a prayer meeting. (Well, I did call in the house first for a quick wipe-down with a wet lettuce and a squirt of perfume.) We were praying for a friend who has just been diagnosed with an aggressive and advanced form of breast cancer.

Now I have a problem here.

I have no trouble believing that God can heal; I just doubt if he will. My experience over the last ten years or so has been that, no matter how much earnest prayer goes in, death is the result.

There are plenty of pat Christian answers to this. God does answer your prayers but he doesn't necessarily give you the answer you want. He did answer: he said no. God sees the bigger picture. It's all part of his plan.

Pah!

We hear about miracles - really obvious miracles like the blind seeing - happening all over the world today; I would love to see that sort of instant miracle. But then again I suspect, within weeks, I would be like Peter or Thomas the Doubter, who spent years with Jesus, seeing amazing things, and yet still they denied and doubted and wondered the truth.

There are so many things I don't understand, I will never understand, and yes, I'm angry at the moment. But I continue to ask God for that miracle. I will cling on, even if it's by my fingertips, to the only one who can be trusted completely.

This is me

Dear Lord,

So far today I am doing all right.

I have not gossiped, lost my temper, been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish or self-indulgent. I have not whined, complained, cursed or eaten any chocolate. I have charged nothing on my credit card.

But I will be getting out of bed in a minute and I think that I will really need your help then.

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