Praying for You

"Sending you lots of prayers." "Praying for you." Different versions of this have been said to me so many times. I know the people that say it mean it genuinely, and I always thank them for it. But, it can feel empty.

I was raised Presbyterian. We went to church most Sundays. I went to church camp every summer, sometimes multiple church camps. I went to confirmation class. I got a Bible when I graduated high school. But, as an adult, I have an unsure view on religion, and really church. Nothing bad happened to turn me away, but I also never had a strong reason to go back. Church was always a place I put on the church version of myself rather than a genuine version of myself. Now, I'd really rather not do that. 

My view on religion is something that I have not been open about to many people in my life. One time I told someone that we don't take our kids to church, and I was asked if I wanted my kids to be losers because only losers don't go to church, as if our worth and goodliness is only found by being in a pew on Sunday morning. I also wonder if the people who know we don't go to church are praying for us to find a church home, something I didn't ask them to do. 

Yet, as we've been going through this, I sometimes find myself praying. I pray when I go to sleep at night and again when I wake up. It's like a meditation I go through silently to be thankful, to beg, to sort through my thoughts, to focus on what's happening now rather than spiraling about a future I cannot control. I mean, what else can I do?

Whether there is a God or not, I do not believe that he or she has anything to do with which kids get cancer and which don't, which kids survive cancer and which don't. How can people tell a parent that it's God's plan when they are watching their child suffer from a horrible disease? People don't think and just say whatever cliché thing is the easiest - a sentiment that feels hollow because it is hollow. "Praying for you." "God's got it."

If I were to look for God in all of this, its in the doctors who spend their lives researching and treating patients. It's in the therapists that show up to work everyday and treat terminally ill children and their families normally and with care. It's in the parents who've lost their children and then dedicate their time raising money for research and supporting other families going the same thing. It's in the people who have showed up for us without us asking, sending gifts and money and food and just being there. 

In the car the other day, I was talking to my 4-year old about prayer. She had been asking about her big sister and the conversation went in that direction. I told her she could say a prayer inside her mind if she wanted to. She could say what she was thankful for or ask God for things.  She was quiet for a minute and then asked if I wanted to know what she was thankful for. "What?" I asked. "Every thing in the whole world."

A song of love and loss

Clean Bandit, "Symphony"