Everyone Needs a Prayer Warrior

I do love people. I really do. To stand in line beside Ryan and receive hundreds of visitors at Nita's viewing was a boost for my heart. (His too, but I'll just speak for myself here.) I loved and appreciated all the hugs and stories and kind words, and when I stop to think about how long all those people waited just to do that for us...wow. An extra incredible blessing.

But as deeply as I love people and soak up my time with them, I also love being alone. I need to be alone. I need to recharge so I can give again. My processing and grieving must be done in solitude, not around others. 

It's been hard, in the precious few days of bereavement leave we've had, that we haven't been able to be home alone that much for resting and processing. We've given and given and given - and have been happy to do so - but this writer's heart needed a smidgen of solitude.

Yesterday was our first glimpse of that. It was our last day off, and we slept in, stayed on Mo ALL day, never got out of our jammies, and loved the chance to just be. We had no expectations of ourselves. We didn't cook or get in all our steps. We drank a lot of coffee and kept the TV on all day. It was glorious. We'll need more days like that, I know, but until we get them, I wanted to share this with you today.

Funerals are hard for me. I mean, of course they are! Aren't they hard for everyone? But they're not just hard because of the way they represent final goodbyes. They're hard because they make me incredibly anxious. I am not sure why. I can go to viewings all day long (and sometimes it feels like I do) and I'm fine...but something about the atmosphere of sitting in a funeral takes me so far past what I'm able to do in my own strength.

I was so nervous about Nita's funeral, because I desperately wanted to be present for Ryan and support him in all the ways he needed. And I wasn't sure I could do it.

Many prayed for me, and I knew they were doing it. All of those prayers mingled together and made it possible for me to get through. I don't discount any of them. If you were among those prayer warriors that day, I send my profound and profuse thanks, because God used you in a very real way.

But there was one in particular that I want to tell you about today. I won't use her name because I know she didn't do it to be recognized. But one of my friends drove a significant distance to sit in the back of the church and pray me through that funeral. She had already driven to the viewing the day before, sat for a couple of hours in line to hug me, and driven the long trek back home. I didn't expect her to return for the funeral. But as she hugged me in line at the viewing, she told me that even though I might not see her the next day, she would be there.

As she whispered in my ear, she reminded me of the Old Testament account when Moses stood on the hilltop with the staff of God in his hand. As long as his hands remained raised, the Israelites were winning the battle in the valley below. When he couldn't hold up his arms anymore, Aaron and Hur stood beside him and lifted him up.

She came to be my Aaron and Hur. She came to lift me up when I was unable to lift myself.

And she did. My heart didn't race out of control a single time during that funeral. And the couple of times I did feel spikes of anxiety, God reminded me she was praying in the back. 

Everyone needs a prayer warrior. People asked me over and over throughout this past week what they could do to help me. And so many did help in creative ways. We haven't cooked our own meals in a whole week. Someone brought me a Coke during the viewing when my blood sugar went wacky and I had too many hours ahead of me to feel weak. One of my friends served as our photographer during the viewing and again at the cemetery. And oh...all the prayers. So needed.

But everyone needs a specific prayer warrior in the back, lifting her up.

If you're looking for a job for someone who hurts in your life...I highly recommend being Aaron and Hur. I know I'm thankful for mine.