Suddenly

DebbieThis suddenly came in a phone call. Debbie is in terrible pain. They are rushing her to the emergency room. They think it is kidney stones. They found a small tumor and are sending her to a larger hospital. Testing. Waiting. Testing. Waiting. Tears. Prayers. Diagnosis. It’s a rare, aggressive cancer. Adrenal cancer. Miracle needed. More tears. More prayers. Not the average kind of prayers. The kind of prayers that unite a church in passionate prayer, the kind that keeps you awake at night. The kind where you wrestle with the angel of the Lord until He touches your friend. Then come the surgeries. Who can prepare you to hear they removed a tumor the size of a man’s head? Who can prepare you to witness a family coming together in tears, strong in faith, wrapping their arms around each other in earnest prayer, with a steadfast love for each other and strength beyond understanding? It is truly humbling.

I will always remember the first day I met Debbie. She came to a homeschool meeting with her very young daughter. She had the most beautiful long, red, curly hair that matched her daughter’s. It turns out I knew her husband’s family. I was so happy to meet her and to find out how her husband and in-laws were doing. We didn’t know it then but that was the day we began raising our children together. We went on field trips to fire stations, state parks, museums, and the library. Our families participated together in science fairs, project fairs, and all sorts of little events where our children displayed their talents whether through song, cooking, or sports. Debbie and I even came to lead for many years the homeschool group where we first met. The funny thing is we never realized through the birthday parties, picnics, skinned knees, and all those little things of life, that our families had become knitted together in friendship. Sometimes it takes a suddenly to realize how much people have come to mean to you.

As soon as people heard about Debbie, the offers to help began pouring in. I knew what was needed. I had been here before. What else do you do but step forward and begin organizing a benefit? It is something tangible people can do to show love and support to a family who has touched their community, touched their lives. It is something I can do. It is something I need to do. I once heard someone say that Jesus is the perfect theology. He prayed, and then fed the people. We see him retreat into solitude to spend time in sweet communion with the Father. Then he returns again among the people. He speaks. He eats. He lives among them. He touches them. He serves them. And so I try, in my imperfect way, to follow the example Jesus set for us. I have and continue to cry in prayer but I also must go out and serve.

This role of benefit coordinator is bittersweet. It gives opportunity to witness some of the most amazing people come together and pull off something bigger than themselves. There is such beauty in acts of selflessness. I know there are many such acts that happen every day among our family, friends, and churches. I realize I need to take the time to appreciate them more. But there is something about seeing it on such a grand scale that warms the heart and gives hope that the Lord is still at work among people. It truly moves me. Yet, I also know that every time I am called to participate in this beautiful role, it means there was a suddenly.

Blessings,

Kristen Pratt

Category: Life Happens!
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