09/03/2026
MARTHA PRAYS
Lord, I sent for You.
My brother is dying, I’m running on fumes, and I do believe You have him. I know where his hope is. I know death does not get the last word.
But, Lord, could we discuss Your people?
They keep telling me, “God will provide.”
Wonderful.
Several of them have CashApp.
The laundry is breeding. The dishes have formed a government. The cupboards are low. The doctor still sends bills. The animals apparently did not receive the memo that the herdsman is on comfort care, and the flies have claimed the chamberpots as promised land.
Everybody is praying.
Could a few of them pray while holding a casserole?
Maybe pray over a washing machine? Lay hands on a broom?
Anoint the gas tank?Bring paper plates? Sit with the elders?
Feed something with four legs?
Because, Lord, I am discovering that “I’m praying for you” lands a little differently when it arrives carrying supper.
And please — bless abundantly the ones who have shown up.
The ones who brought food without asking what we needed. The ones who slipped us gas money, washed clothes, fed animals, sat quietly at a bedside, answered a phone, cleaned a mess, or simply noticed what needed doing and did it. That is truly a gift.
Multiply their kindness. Refill what they have poured out. Let them know that I saw Your hands in theirs.
I am still asking for the miracle beside my brother’s bed.
But I am also asking for another one:
Lord, wake up Your people.
Some prayers need legs.
Amen.
