Prayer to Be Present – August 26, 2023

I am in the backseat of the car. My head is cradled in my mother’s lap. Mom is without words. It feels so good for her to stroke my hair. For her to hold me. I cannot understand why I cannot move my arms, legs, or fingers.

Dad is driving the car. I ask, “Dad, where we are going? Dad pauses. He says, “To the hospital, Bubba.” For the rest of the drive, Mom and Dad sit in silence. Their presence is more important than words.

We arrive at Hedgecroft Hospital. The orderly meets us in the driveway. Dad lifts me from Mom’s lap. I am set down on the stretcher. Mom and Dad walk along side of me. We go into a large room with strangers in beds. “Why are they here? Why am I here,” I ask myself.

The orderly removes me from the gurney. I am placed in a metal baby bed on my back. A few minutes later Mom says, “Bubba, we must leave now. I will be back each day to see you.” I cry, “Mom don’t leave me. I am scared. Please stay.” Mom looks strangely sad, “Bubba, we must go. The hospital rules will not let me stay with you.” That made no sense to me. Mom quickly turns away. She did not or could not look back. She and Dad are gone.

Although my mom and dad have died, the 1954 Delta 88 Oldsmobile is probably in a landfill, and I am much older, in many ways my parents are still in that car with me. I can feel their presence. They reached the same final destination which waits for you and me. At the end of life’s long, difficult, beautiful, and sacred road which leads to forever together in the presence of Divine love.

Another such presence happened at an Emmott Family Reunion. I am thirteen. I just had one long steel Harrington rod placed along my spine. I have a plaster cast from my hips to my underarms.

On the first Sunday in June, it is Reunion Day. I emphatically tell Mom, “I am not going to the reunion no matter what you say.” “Yes, you are,” she replied. “Mom, you don’t understand. I will be alone laying on a stretcher while I watch everyone else having fun.” Mom, said, “Stop arguing, Bubba. You are going and that’s it.”

Dad and my brother, Charles, carry me on a stretcher through the woods. They place me on the grass under the shade of a 40-year-old oak tree.

Mom comes over a few minutes later. “Bubba, this is your cousin Mary Lou. She is going to sit with you for a while.” A while turns into the entire Reunion Day. Mary Lou makes small talk, but mostly she just sits with me for the rest of the day. She seems entirely content with sitting next to me.

This 13-year-old, burr-headed, body-cast boy clad in a t-shirt and yellow shorts laying on a stretcher is still under that tree with her. My 17-year-old fair-skinned curly brown haired beautiful cousin, Mary Lou, has never left my side. In her and my parents’ presence I felt and still feel God’s presence and love.

At Mary Lou’s birthday celebration recently, I shared this story of my Reunion Day with her. In being in her presence I received God’s blessing. God’s love. The healing grace which flows when two or more are gathered and present in His name.

Today’s prayer is not about the sad, dark, and desperate times I faced after polio. This prayer is about being present. The power of it. The love in it. The light in it which heals all hurts. Which fills all loss.

God has spoken in Scripture of being present for others.

Let us pray.

Dear God, I need Your help to be there for others. My life and work are too full of worry, multi-tasking and electronic distractions. In prayer, please provide the peace to be mindfully and fully present with others. Just as You are always present with me.

God, may You and Your love be felt by others with whom I spend my time. There are times when Your grace flows in complete silence. Your love needs no words. May my service to others be Your presence and love in this needful world. Amen