It is a Socal winter day today, gloom bordering on fog hanging outside my office window and the temperature hanging at a frigid forty-nine. Through the wonder of Facebook, I can see the snow in the yards of my Facebook friends and be happy there’s nothing to shovel on the front walks today. Thankful. Yesterday, it was bright and sunny … Muri and I spent the afternoon at the beach, just strolling the bike path that runs behind the oceanfront homes. Today, we are headed to the theater with friends then out to dinner afterwards. We’ll belatedly exchange Christmas presents. We are blessed. But there is that gloom. A friend of mine is sick, in the hospital with pneumonia that for the moment, seems to be getting the best of him, both physically and spiritually. It was an unseen mist that hung over the sand yesterday as we walked and this morning, it’s a sad song playing down the street, slipping through my office window as I write. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you know … life has many tunes, it’s up to me to choose the ones I dance to.
Yes, I’m praying for him. Of all my prayers, I approach prayers for others with the most trepidation, the most caution. After all, I’ve prayed for the recovery of people I love and I’ve seen them pass anyway. Why set myself up for disappointment, or worse, bitterness? I think I believe that God can (and sometimes will) intercede in the lives of others but I haven’t a clue when or why. And I certainly don’t know any words that make that more likely. I pray for my friend because it is all I can do. I ask for his recovery even though that may not be in the cards … or part of God’s plan, as those more spiritual than I would probably say. I pray for acceptance of whatever turns out to be God’s plan. Perhaps most of all, I pray for him as a testament to our friendship, in gratitude that in my sixties I found a unique friend, someone completely different from me on the surface in whom I found a brother under the skin.
If you believe in prayer and you’ve got a minute, offer one for my friend, Stan, today. Thanks