It started out being just a leisurely Saturday afternoon get-together for the “trinity” to catch up. That was at 1 p.m. When T walked through the door at 10:30 p.m. that night, I knew things had taken a turn. As T explained to me, the story unfolded into much more than we had feared. We knew trouble had been stalking some of our precious, younger extended family members—but, it turns out it had been living with them for some time. I’d been praying for them for so long—but had it helped? There again were the questions that had faced us before: What do we do? What can we do? What is our responsibility? Can we force a hand? It was no secret to our close family and friends that we’d been here before—with another. In that case, we’d made mistakes by not acting sooner. Mistakes we are still trying to make right.This time, T didn’t even wait for the end of the trio’s conversation to lead the charge. They (the trinity we once called “the bro hem brothers”) swooped in, removed the bambinis to a safe place to talk. There were tears. There was a plea for help. There was even an audible cry for more God in their lives. (Ahhh…you WERE listening! Thank you!) Then there was consolation and reassurance. T let them know they are well loved. He told them the situation is not their fault. He reminded them that we aren’t going away … that we’re (all) going to help do everything in our power to make things better for them. He even mentioned God.
As he told me all of this late Saturday night, I just kept thinking of all those years
we debated about prophets, gods, religions and spirituality. I kept thinking about how many years went by that he was so lost spiritually and unhappy. I remembered the Christmas long ago when his doubt and desperation hit an all time low. I’d just kept praying for him to find peace. Now he was leading the charge, and I don’t even think he realized it. I couldn’t help but smile as he was talking. “Why are you smiling?” he asked. “I was just noticing what shirt you happened to be wearing today.” He looked down. Then he smiled, too. (See photo at right.) The queen's warrior.Someone sent me an email with a new acronym this week. I’m adopting it as my personal mission statement: P.U.S.H. –“Pray Until Something Happens.” It works. I swear.
