It happened about a month ago now - so I'm hoping that I can finally write about it. We'll see . . .
It was our first morning home after taking Molly to college. I drove to the post office to pick up our mail. It also happened to be the first day of school here in Michigan. As I approached the post office, I saw a family gathered in a driveway. The whole family was there. The purpose for their gathering was immediately clear - the oldest daughter was about to get on the school bus. By the look of things, it was probably the first time. Her little brothers and sisters looked at her with awe. Her mom held her close. Her dad took pictures with a camera. The whole family was there - and they were all waiting for the school bus.
The scene was so poignant and so tender that I pulled off the road to watch.
It was our first morning home after taking Molly to college. I drove to the post office to pick up our mail. It also happened to be the first day of school here in Michigan. As I approached the post office, I saw a family gathered in a driveway. The whole family was there. The purpose for their gathering was immediately clear - the oldest daughter was about to get on the school bus. By the look of things, it was probably the first time. Her little brothers and sisters looked at her with awe. Her mom held her close. Her dad took pictures with a camera. The whole family was there - and they were all waiting for the school bus.
The scene was so poignant and so tender that I pulled off the road to watch.
Having just dropped Molly off at college, my mind rushed back to an earlier day when we did just about the same thing with Molly. When she was in first grade, she was close enough to walk to school. And I vividly remembered that day when it all started. We all walked to school together and Julie took a picture of Molly beside an evergreen tree in front of the school. In fact, we took the same picture on the first day of each year. In first grade, Molly and the tree were about the same size. Over the next few years, the tree grew a lot faster than Molly did. The annual picture was a way of measuring the passing of time.
And now, a similar scene was unfolding just across the street from the post office. A different family. A different daughter. But exactly the same event.
When I got home from picking up the mail - and from watching that tender scene unfold - Julie and I sat down for breakfast. Our emotions were pretty raw. It was still possible to imagine that Molly was simply upstairs in her room. Maybe she was just sleeping late. We half-expected her to walk downstairs any minute. Overall, we had done pretty well with all the good-byes in New York. Even the drive home wasn't too bad. But that first breakfast once we got home was almost too much.
Julie and I prayed and thanked God for his marvelous blessings. And we did fine with the praying - until I said the words, "God, bless Molly." I had a lot more that I intended to pray, but the words stopped at exactly that moment.
I remember thinking, "God, you'll need to take it from here." I remember thinking, "God, there's more that I want to pray, but I just don't have any words."
And that morning, God finished our prayer for us.
In Romans 8, Paul talks about the Spirit's role in helping us pray. In Eugene Peterson's paraphrase, the verses sound like this:
And now, a similar scene was unfolding just across the street from the post office. A different family. A different daughter. But exactly the same event.
When I got home from picking up the mail - and from watching that tender scene unfold - Julie and I sat down for breakfast. Our emotions were pretty raw. It was still possible to imagine that Molly was simply upstairs in her room. Maybe she was just sleeping late. We half-expected her to walk downstairs any minute. Overall, we had done pretty well with all the good-byes in New York. Even the drive home wasn't too bad. But that first breakfast once we got home was almost too much.
Julie and I prayed and thanked God for his marvelous blessings. And we did fine with the praying - until I said the words, "God, bless Molly." I had a lot more that I intended to pray, but the words stopped at exactly that moment.
I remember thinking, "God, you'll need to take it from here." I remember thinking, "God, there's more that I want to pray, but I just don't have any words."
And that morning, God finished our prayer for us.
In Romans 8, Paul talks about the Spirit's role in helping us pray. In Eugene Peterson's paraphrase, the verses sound like this:
Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting,
God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along.
If we don't know how or what to pray,
it doesn't matter.
He does our praying in and for us,
making prayer out of our wordless sighs,
our aching groans.
He knows us far better than we know ourselves . . .
Romans 8:26-27
God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along.
If we don't know how or what to pray,
it doesn't matter.
He does our praying in and for us,
making prayer out of our wordless sighs,
our aching groans.
He knows us far better than we know ourselves . . .
Romans 8:26-27
That morning, God made prayer out of our wordless sighs. And he does that all the time.
When we are able to pray, we need to do that. But when we aren't able to pray - for whatever reason - God can do just fine with whatever we offer. He can take broken hearts and confusion and doubts and fears and grief and questions and all sorts of things - and he can turn all of that into prayer.
I suspect that the best prayers we pray are the ones made up of wordless sighs.
Thanks be to this God who knows us better than we know ourselves.
When we are able to pray, we need to do that. But when we aren't able to pray - for whatever reason - God can do just fine with whatever we offer. He can take broken hearts and confusion and doubts and fears and grief and questions and all sorts of things - and he can turn all of that into prayer.
I suspect that the best prayers we pray are the ones made up of wordless sighs.
Thanks be to this God who knows us better than we know ourselves.