The Power of Prayer

This is a bit of a ramble... but I walked past my refrigerator tonight and a familiar magnet caught my eye. It reads "The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my delivered, my God, my strength, in whom I will trust." Psalm 18:2. It was sent to me by a woman I never met. A woman who prayed for Max every one of those 123 days that he was in the NICU.

She learned of our story from Colonial Presbyterian, the church where Ella wen to preschool at the time, and where Alex went this past year. They are such a wonderful caring congregation. They took us in and looked after us and our children. Most importantly they prayed for us, and with us and over Max. I remember when Pastor Tim, whose son was in Ella's class, came up to see us during that first week in the NICU. He was almost brought to tears just seeing Max and how fragile he was. He was the first person to pray with us. We were praying almost non-stop... but to hear someone else pray for Max, for us, for the doctors... was reassuring. We felt like we weren't alone. He asked if the church and their care team could look after us, and we were thrilled to have them.

In the weeks to come, Sandy Blair came up to see me weekly. Part of the care team, she checked in on us regularly. Sometimes she'd miss me and just leave a note if Max was having a procedure or if I was holding him or feeding him and couldn't move. She was able to come in and see him, praying for me, praying for him, praying, praying, praying. Every week, without fail, I heard from her and I knew that someone was praying with me to meet his needs and ours. I still hear from Sandy from time to time. I know she reads this blog, and I hope she knows how much her unending faith has helped us to get through... just knowing that she was always interceding on Max's behalf... in prayer. And I hope you know, Sandy, how much it meant to me, having someone else there with me from time to time. Those days i the NICU were long, and hard and lonely. I was grateful to have someone to pray with me and help me through.

There were others on the care team, and in the congregation, who sent cards, called and left messages, stopped by the NICU, or left messages on the blog. You'll have to forgive us for not responding or saying thanks sooner... it was a crazy, busy time, and just now, I'm starting to remember all those people who helped us... that I never thanked.

Even now, as I worry about things, with Max, with the other children, with Troy, with myself, I know the importance of prayer in my life... "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Philippians 4:6

I can't help but pray. It's where I find my strength... it's how I keep going. I believe that God has an answer and plan for everything. There is so much in my life that I've questioned. So much that I doubted and didn't understand. But I know this much... God intended for Troy and I to be together, to have two beautiful healthy children, for me to have a brain tumor... and for us to have Max. He knew that I was Max's mommy long before I ever met that sweet boy. He prepared me to be stronger than I ever thought I could be. He had a job for me. Never before did I know this purpose in my life. Never have I had such a defining moment.

Max's birth and his life have changed us. It's still amazing to me that we've survived it all. But we have and we are stronger than ever, because of prayer. Our prayers, the prayers or friends and family and the prayers of complete strangers helped us to make it. Thank you to all of you who have lifted us up and those who continue to do so. There is no greater gift you could give us.