I am going to be completely honest with you at the risk of sounding well -ashamed. I don’t remember learning how to pray as a child. Brought up in a strict Catholic household, I certainly knew right from wrong. And the Catholic grade school provided a weekly mass, where I’m sure the lessons were based on the gospel. I don’t remember those lessons though. And talking with my Grampa Yoas, who will be 105 years old in just a few days, he didn’t remember learning how to pray or even praying as a child. I do remember the nuns had wooden rosaries that chattered at their sides when they walked. It’s a sound I still love today.

I prayed in the dugouts a lot while I was keeping score for Dave. Oh, sometimes my prayers were for warmer weather when I sat there freezing. I remember being unable to feel my toes and thinking why doesn’t someone find a way to heat these dugouts. Playing baseball in the spring in Michigan made it very challenging to love the sport – until about May. I remember mostly praying to God when Ryan was on the mound pitching. I disliked when he pitched. I had typical mom jitters that never went away until the last out. I didn’t pray for Susan to run down that fly ball in center field because I knew she’d arrive in time to camp under the ball and effortlessly make the putout. She was faster than lightening. Just as typical was Brendan deking the runner at first base with his eyes in the air, only to then scoop up a one-hopper and fire a strike to second to start 4-6-3 inning-ending double play. He was one of the smartest infielders we ever had. No, I found myself mostly praying when Ryan pitched. As a talented hitter, I almost took for granted he’d go 3 for 4 or even 4 for 4. But, when he’d pitch, I can still hear myself saying, “Dear Lord, let him wiggle outta this inning today and I will remember to say my rosary tonight.”

I am sure my rudimentary and feeble attempts at praying were heard. Not always answered the way I wanted, but they were always heard. Praying these days is more purposeful and much more often than ever before. In the last few years, I have set my Fitbit timer to remind me to give thanks and pray for those in need at 5:05 p.m. My prayers are always for someone or something that I encountered that day. Soon after we arrived in Seattle, a box was delivered from one of my longest and dearest childhood friends. It contained snacks and gifts to make us chuckle. In addition, the box contained daily devotionals. I have begun to read the devotionals in the morning. The last line in one of the booklets is a prayer that actually gives me something to achieve throughout the day. Through prayer, it sets the purpose of my day for me.

Today I prayed that when we receive the results from SCCA, I am given the strength to move forward with the journey that has been written for Dave and me long before we were born. Today I prayed for continued courage as I stand by his side and do whatever it takes, even though I might not like the way in which my prayer is being answered. And, today I prayed for wisdom and understanding. Maybe this cancer battle is happening for something far bigger than I can understand right now. But Lord, give me the wisdom to know and accept that all things happen in Your name. You are the only one who can answer my prayer for complete healing. Amen.