Prayerful

(Warning: This one is a little heavy)

I was raised to be a good Southern Baptist girl. I went to Sunday School and "Big Church" every Sunday and participated in all the children's and youth events. I sang the hymns and bowed my head in prayer, but it wasn't until I became a Catholic that it all began to have a meaning and I began to have an excitement about my religion.

While completing Catholic conversion classes, I learned to pray the rosary, which became my prayer of choice. With this, I felt that I was really making a connection and I was part of something bigger. I began to recite the rosary on a daily basis, and I carried a rosary with me every where I went. When I had a good day, I would pray the rosary. When I had a bad day, I would pray the rosary. It was beautiful!

Then came Bubba's adoption. I was praying everyday, sometimes more, but I felt helpless. He wasn't able to come home, and I couldn't be with him. I spent all of my days checking Guatemalan message boards, my cell phone voicemail, and my email hoping for something...anything. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, I found out I was pregnant, and that was it...the last straw. It broke me.

At 10 am on Wednesday at the end of July, I checked the message boards and my email for the last time. I pushed my chair away from the computer and collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Out of know where, I began to pray. I prayed a real prayer. It went something like this:

"God, I'm done. I'm done checking. I'm done asking when and I'm done caring. Right now I have the possibility of being a mom to two babies, but I'm not sure that I will actually ever be able to hold either one. I'm afraid of losing the baby inside and the baby in Guatemala, but I just can't worry anymore. It's all Yours! The fear, the nervousness, the worry, and the anxiety...it's Yours. If I'm not meant to have children then take them both. I will understand, but do not give me hope and then snatch it away. I just can't take anymore. Do what you want! It's in Your hands! I'm done trying!"

With that, I stood and wiped my eyes. I can see it as if it were yesterday. Fifteen minutes later I received a phone call that Bubba could come home. The next day I had an ultrasound that showed my baby's beating heart, and I have never prayed again. I have never said another rosary or recited the Lord's prayer in church. The only thing resembling a prayer is the bedtime prayer I say with my children each night. I'm sure most of you are asking why? Why wouldn't I pray when I have been so blessed? I suppose I have been afraid of tempting fate, but all of that has changed.

After spending a week at the hospital with my parents, I was picked up at the airport by my family. I immediately showered the kids with hugs and kisses and jumped in the car. "We missed you Mommy" they said, just as they had rehearsed with Evander moments before (I'm sure), but it was still nice to hear. I then began telling Evander about my trip and how everyone was, when Bubba interrupted me.

"I miss you Mommy!" he said. "Thanks" I replied and continued talking.

"Grandaddy sick, Mommy ?" he asked. "Yes baby! Grandaddy is sick but he is getting better." I uttered and picked up my conversation.

"I prayed for you!" he said and I froze. I looked at Evander and then back at Bubba.

"Did he just say what I think he said?" I asked Evander. "I think so" chuckled Evander.

I reached back and grabbed Bubba's leg. "Thank you" I murmured and quickly turned so that he couldn't see the tears welling up in my bloodshot eyes.

Tonight I found a pocket-size prayer book that Evander's grandmother had given me during Bubba's adoption. In it, she had marked her favorite prayer, Guardian Angel Prayer. Tonight I prayed this prayer with my children.

Angel of God,

my Guardian dear,

to whom God's love

commits me here.

Ever this day

be at my side;

to light, to guard,

to rule and guide. Amen.