Image credit: Wikimedia, James St. John

In a cold antiseptic hospital room at St. Luke’s in Houston, my friend, a minister, sat beside the hospital bed. I will refer to as Bud (not his real name). In his ministry Bud had stood watch over many children of God before their hearts stopped beating.

Before their deaths, Bud, the minister, had prayed for miracles which never came. Prayed for cures which never materialized. Bud had given Last Rites to many. He had commended many spirits to God. This time was different. The patient, this child of God, was Bud’s father.

Days earlier the doctors had told Bud that death was near. Hours turned into days. Days into several weeks. When would death ever come? No matter how long it took, Bud was totally committed to sit next to his father until the very end.

Everyday Bud with a prayer book in his hands sat next to his dad. Bud’s dad prayed with him. Most of the time the hospital room was filled with silent prayers amidst the unwelcome and irritating sounds of blood pressure and heart monitors.

When Bud became stiff-legged from sitting too long, he paced the room. He walked across the room to look out the large window high above the 10th floor level of the hospital. It was comforting to look out the window to see the light, the life, the trees, and greenery below. The view out the window sharply contrasted with the ugliness of the impending death of the dad he loved.

Bud was very sleepy one morning. He wanted to stay awake and not miss a moment with his dad. A strong cup of coffee was needed. Bud asked his dad if he could go get a cup of black coffee and come right back to the room. Bud‘s father said, “Sure son, I will be OK. I will see you when you get back.”

Bud left. He returned a few minutes later with a hot cup of black coffee. Instead of finding his dad waiting for him, the end had come. Bud’s father had died. His father’s passing was missed because Bud went to get coffee. Bud felt shellfish and full of guilt for not being there.

Soon the nurses left the room to give Bud time alone with his father. Bud held his father’s hands. The hands were still warm. Bud always believed the holy spirit does not leave the body until the body is cold. Bud was comforted by the warmth which remained in his father’s body and hands.

Next, Bud did what ministers do. He gave his dad the Last Rites. Bud gave his dad a goodbye kiss on the forehead.

Bud tearfully walked toward the window. Bud needed light and warmth he had seen before outside the window. Even more, Bud needed a sign that life and love goes on after his dad’s death. Unexpectedly a sign came.

In disbelief Bud saw on the windowsill a beautiful cardinal looking into the room where his father’s dead body laid. A cardinal had always been his dad’s favorite bird.

What were the chances that any bird, much less a cardinal, would find its perch in a window above the tenth floor of St. Luke’s? At the exact moment after Bud had commended his dad’s spirit into the everlasting arms of God? To Bud, this was no mere coincidence. God was saying to Bud, “Be at peace my child. Your father is safe with me. My small, feathered angel will lead your dad home to me.”

God has spoken in Scripture as the significance of birds.

Revelations 19:17
And I saw an angel standing in the sun, who cried in a loud voice to all the birds flying in midair, “Come, gather together for the great supper of God”.

Let us pray.
Dear God, You have dominion over all things in Heaven and on Earth.

You are always present for me. In Your spirit. In Your grace. In Your everlasting love for me.

God, in prayer may I see more clearly see the signs of Your presence and love around me. Your heavenly angels. Your living angels who dwell near me.

God, I thank You for the dove which symbolizes Your holy spirit and the cardinal which symbolizes the angel of heaven. I thank You for Your living feathered angels. May I trust in You to send me an angel, like the cardinal, to one day lead me back home to You. Amen
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If you think Jack’s prayer helps you or will help someone you know, please forward it to them. Jack may never make millions selling books or writing prayers, but spreading God’s good news to others is reward enough for him.
Ann Boland, Jack’s Publicist

Photo credit- getpetelaw.com

I was a young trial lawyer. A middle-aged lady came to my office. Shirley (not her name) was broadsided by a fast-moving car. Shirley suffered bruises and soft tissue injuries. The police report gave me the name of the negligent driver. I could not believe that the name of the person at the wheel of the car which t-boned Shirley was…..“Speed.” What are the chances that I could sue a negligent, ticketed, and obviously irresponsible driver named “Speed?”

For this prayer I will call him Speed Stafford (not his last name). I promptly filed suit. The lawsuit was served on Speed Stafford. The time came for me to take Speed’s sworn deposition. He was represented by a prestigious law firm in downtown Houston. I assumed that Speed was a young and cocky inconsiderate driver. I assumed his distinguished insurance defense attorney had spent hours wood-shedding Speed on how to testify and what to say and what not to say. Most of all not to volunteer information. To just answer the questions I asked him and nothing more.

Fully prepared and armed with my assumptions about Speed Stafford and his attorney, I waited with the court reporter for them to walk into the conference room. That is when my assumptions proved false and foolish. Instead of Speed looking like the young and cocky man I assumed he was, Speed grandfatherly walked into the room wearing leather shoes, khaki pants and khaki shirt, a bola tie, and brass-rimmed bifocals. He could have been my dear Uncle Army Emmott’s twin brother.

Speed Stafford testified very well. He was well prepared by his lawyer. Followed his attorney’s instructions. Said nothing for me to pin one hundred percent of the fault on him. As I was about to conclude the deposition, I noticed that Speed’s legendary defense attorney had fallen asleep. I had assumed his attorney would never do that.

At that moment I said to Mr. Stafford, “Speed, as I conclude your deposition today, I have one last question. Do you have anything you want to say to my client, Shirley, before I stop asking you questions?” Speed replied, “As a matter of fact I do. The accident was entirely my fault. I am mad at my insurance company. I keep telling them to settle with your lady. I am deeply sorry for the injuries I caused to her.” Hearing what Speed had said, his defense attorney woke up. He looked surprised at what he heard.

When I returned to my office, the defense attorney was on the phone for me. He said, “Jack, we do not need to have the court reporter prepare the transcript of the deposition. We will pay what you are asking to settle the case.” The case was over. So were my assumptions.

Speed was a sweet elderly and honest man who made a mistake and freely admitted it. He took full responsibility for his irresponsible driving. The truth was revealed to me. I learned the truth by asking Speed the questions. By being curious. My assumptions were false. They were foolish indeed.

When I was younger and less spiritually developed, I made false assumptions about others based on how they looked. At the same time, I never wanted others to see me differently because I was in a wheelchair. Only God really knows who we are. To God we are special. We are God’s children. We are all God’s hope and gifts to the world. Why can’t we view others in the same way?

As a collaborative divorce attorney, I learned the importance of avoiding assumptions. I gained wisdom by being curious. By asking questions instead of thinking I already know the answers. In this way I hope I have a greater impact on healing broken hearts, repairing splintered co-parenting relationships, and sheltering children from the harm of litigation.

God has spoken in Scripture on the sin of assumptions.

John 7:24
Do not judge according to appearance, but judge with righteous judgment.
Proverbs 18:13
To answer before listening– that is folly and shame.

Let us pray.

Dear God, I know assumptions can be good. Like most people are trying to do their best. Or most people have good intentions. But I know often my assumptions are wrong in Your eyes.

God, in prayer please help me to avoid assumptions. Sometimes my assumptions and prejudgments result in me relating to others in an unloving way. Please forgive me for that.

God, please caste away from me my harmful assumptions about others. My assumptions blind me from seeing others as You. Unblinded I will see Your loving light which shines on me through them. Amen

If you think Jack’s prayer helps you or will help someone you know, please forward it to them. Jack may never make millions selling books or writing prayers, but spreading God’s good news to others is reward enough for him.
Ann Boland, Jack’s Publicist

Photo credit: SurprisingTreasures.com

I believe most of us first see the Face of God in our mothers. We learn to turn our infant heads to look in their faces. Faces which radiate the blessed light and sacred love they shine on us.

Then there are God’s everlasting arms. I first felt those arms when Mom held me in hers. Mom held me so near I could hear her heart beating. In her warm embrace her heartbeats were lost beneath the sweet sounds of her lullaby songs. Such comfort and peace as I fell asleep in the rocking chair creaking on the oak wood floor beneath us.

The same arms were felt by me when Mom cradled me when I was sick with polio. At those moments all that mattered was being held by her in complete silence. I am certain that those moments were used by Mom for silent prayers to God. In prayer she leaned on God’s everlasting arms. She certainly prayed for strength to trust that God was at work in all her worries and hopes for me.

I also felt God’s everlasting arms when I was a young boy. At the end of a car ride late at night, as I slept, Dad lifted me from the backseat. As he carried me up the stairs to my bedroom, I woke up enough to feel his arms holding me. I never worried about falling from his arms. In Dad’s arms I trusted in him that I was safe. I was secure.

When I was paralyzed with polio at six, Dad’s arms carried me from the bedroom to the car. Dad’s arms set me down softly in Mom’s lap as if I had descended to her on a cloud of love.

As Dad steered the car to the hospital where I would be quarantined, l had no idea God’s grace and everlasting arms were at work in all of this and what was to come.

Later in my life Dad walked beside me on our many walks together. Walks to strengthen my leg muscles so that I could walk on my own again. Often, I fell on the shell roads in Emmottville. Dad’s arms lifted me up time after time. Dad dusted me off. Then, we resumed our walks. Dad’s strong arms never cured me. But, they caught me many times. They picked me up many times.

Sometimes that is all we can do. God can be trusted to take care of everything else.

I am not interested in going to Heaven anytime soon. However, in my faith I believe that when I die, I will be picked up, carried to, received by, and lean on the everlasting arms of God forever. Then, I will experience with my Mom and Dad what they felt when their spirits made their way to Heaven. In the arms of God, I will know, like them, the everlasting comfort, security, and peace of God’s perpetual love and grace.

God has spoken in Scripture of the everlasting arms.

Deuteronomy 33;27
“The eternal God is your refuge, And underneath are the everlasting arms…”

Let us pray together.

Dear God, I thank You for Your everlasting arms. In those arms I am strengthened and comforted.

God, please keep steadfast my trust in You that You are my refuge in all things. That when I am in despair, I should believe in You. That when I feel alone and weak, I should remember that You and Your immutable purpose is being fulfilled.

God, may I rest under Your everlasting arms. As I lean on Your everlasting arms, I know You are at work. I can always trust that You are accomplishing the purposes of Your grace. Amen
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If you think Jack’s prayer helps you or will help someone you know, please forward it to them. Jack may never make millions selling books or writing prayers, but spreading God’s good news to others is reward enough for him.
Ann Boland, Jack’s Publicist
Photo credit: SurprisingTreasures.com

Image from Sean of the South

After my morning devotional today, I read Sean’s Article (a two-minute read).

Rather than create my own prayer about the horrific events on this day 22 years ago, I share with you Sean’s words. Words that are a prayer for all Americans who remember, who will never forget, and who will always remind others.

Please share this prayer with those who are like you and me. Those who will never forget what lives were lost, what courage was exhibited, and what we must do to honor them and keep America safe and free under God.

Click here for Sean’s article.

Today is Sunday. The Lord’s Day. A day of rest. A day to count my blessings. A day blessed by love. Love as blessing .

It is my brother Charles’ birthday. Charles is one year younger than me. From the age of five Charles labored for me because of my polio, far beyond what a child his age should have been called upon to do. On this day I celebrate Charles’ birth, brotherly love, care, and devotion.

I post a picture of Charles as a first grader at Ridgecrest Elementary. Because of age requirements in CyFair I.S.D. Mom enrolled him a year earlier in First Grade at Ridgecrest in Spring Branch I.S.D.

From the age of five until he served as the Best Man at my wedding, Charles was far more than a brother. He was my life auxiliary. It was Mother’s plan, and God‘s plan too for Charles to be at the same grade level I was. He could be in all my classes.

Charles could carry my books. Push my wheelchair from class to class. Take me to the bathroom when Nature called. Help me on the bus. Accompany me to school and events. Walk me across the stage to get my High School diploma. Drive me to college at the University of Houston. Be my chauffeur in my dating years. And countless other duties too many to mention.

Today I rejoice in knowing that because of Charles’ sacrifice, I am a more complete person. The weakness that polio left in me was supplanted by Charles’ strength and love.

On this day of Labor’s rest, Charles is celebrating his birthday with his children and grandchildren. He is no longer my life auxiliary. Yet, Charles remains my greatest encourager and lasting strength.

Charles, may you have the abundance of joy today that your life and love made possible for me.

To all of you who read or share this prayer and who have served so many in need for so long, I pray that you find rest from all your labors. That you may rejoice in thanksgiving for the blessings
you have received, and the love you have given others.

God has spoken in Scripture about resting from our labors.

Matthew 11:28

Come unto me, all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Let us pray.

Dear God, on this Labor Day, please help me to relax and to be at peace in You and with You.

God, in Your peace may I withdraw from the busyness of work and walls of worry.

God, I thank You for the fruits of my labors, and for the blessings I have received from You and the labors and service of others in Your Holy name.  Amen.

If you think Jack’s prayer helps you or will help someone you know, please forward it to them. Jack may never make millions selling books or writing prayers, but spreading God’s good news to others is reward enough for him.

Ann Boland, Jack’s Publicist

Cy-Fair High School – Photo credit: nhregister.com

How do you feel when you are praised at home, at your place of work, or in your church for a job well done? How do you feel when you do excellent work at the office and your boss never thanks you or recognizes you for your achievement? You wonder whether you are invisible.

You know you matter to God. You hope that you are valued by those with whom you work or live. But you rarely hear those words which lift your spirits. In contrast there are others who really appreciate you. They shower you with praise and affirmation. They never take you for granted.

I worked with someone for many years. I did outstanding legal work. Not once did this person thank me for my contributions. In contrast I praised my co-worker countless times. Frankly, that hurt.

It was graduation day at Cy-Fair High School. The road was long getting there. After polio, I had spent a year in first grade at Hedgecroft Hospital. Next, I was a home-bound student for five years while I received physical therapy in the mornings five days a week. In the afternoons Dorothy Carlton came to my house. She taught me lessons. I did my homework assignments. She made sure I earned the gold stars she placed on my completed and graded papers.

Over the next six years at Dean Junior High and Cy-Fair High School I navigated the social and architectural challenges a wheelchair bound student faced. I had amazing support from my teachers, parents, and school administrators. I still had to do the work myself. Often, I was absent from school because of sickness. Repeated bouts of pneumonia. Four major orthopedic surgeries.

Without the praise of others, I would never have been at my graduation ceremony. I would never have had the courage to get out of my wheelchair and walk with my brother Charles across the stage to be handed the diploma.

Before entering the Auditorium, I was tired from standing so long. I leaned against a glass door to rest. One of my classmates opened the door. I fell backwards onto the floor. Charles lifted me to my feet and said, “Bubba, let me get you up. Let’s get going. It’s the day you’ve been waiting for.”

Charles held me by my right arm. We walked down the aisle together. It was not the most graceful march. I ignored the onlookers. At the end of the aisle, I stood in front of the five steps which led to the Stage.

Step by step Charles helped me up to the Stage. Looking to my left I saw T. S (“Sial”) Hancock, School Superintendent handing out diplomas. He saw me and smiled. As he stood holding my diploma, he never lost sight of me as I limped across the Stage. As Sial handed me the diploma he said, “Jack, I am so proud of you. I know how hard you’ve worked to earn this. Congratulations and good luck in your future.” Those words are still wringing in my ears. They were not silenced that night. Nor were they forgotten in 1996 when Sial graduated to God’s school of higher learning of heavenly and eternal love.

I was proud of my Cy-Fair diploma. Yet, that diploma has had far less significance in my life than the impact of Sial’s praise and acknowledgement. The fact that he valued me increased my self-worth. Sial’s words have encouraged me every day to believe in myself, to pursue my dreams, to ignore those who were my doubters, and to affirm that my example will help others do the same.

In many ways Sial’s words were God’s way of saying to me, “My son, you are as important to me as any other of my children. I have a special purpose for you every day on Earth.”

God has spoken in Scripture as to the importance of praise.

Jeremiah 9:23-24
Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the LORD.

Let us pray.

Dear God, I have been taught to always praise You. I know that I serve You when I praise someone else for Your sake. In Your name.

God, please help me find ways and opportunities to praise others as an example of common kindness You showed the world. Whether sinner or saint, You set an example for me to be like You. I can honor and glorify You by acknowledging the worth and value in others.

God, help me praise others who are different than me, even others who are not Christian but are Christ-like. I know I will be rewarded by You when I find ways to praise others. By applauding them for doing something good in the strength and gifts You gave them.

Last, God, may I not be blind to the light which shines in others. When I see and praise their good works, I praise You. I see You. I affirm You and Your presence in all things and in all people.
Amen
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If you think Jack’s prayer helps you or will help someone you know, please forward it to them. Jack may never make millions selling books or writing prayers, but spreading God’s good news to others is reward enough for him.
Ann Boland, Jack’s Publicist

Zion Cemetery

Time. Time. What is time?

God has spoken in Scripture as to time.

Ecclesiastes 3:1
For everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.

There is also a time like this. I am at Zion Cemetery in Iola, Texas. I sit in my wheelchair under the limestone pavilion. I am surrounded by the graves of Germans and Irish folk who settled here in 1839. Relatives of those who died at the Alamo. Headstones of boys killed in the Civil War. Wives who survived three husbands. Children who died as infants.

Today is the time to bury a beautiful red-headed, brilliant, and devoted wife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother, and educator. This child of God never rested in her service to God. For 98 years in her life since her birth in Iola, she treasured life. Her life was long in years and deep in love.

Who is the beautiful red-headed woman in the coffin under the spray of greenery and white roses? The one who’s time to die had come? My Aunt, Virginia Lee Woodward Emmott.

Before the breath of God left Aunt Virginia’s body, she used every bit of time, and every gift of love God gave her. From her baby cry on November 8, 1924, until the day her time on earth ended on July 19, 2023, she earned her angel wings. Graduated from high school at age 16. Attended Baylor at 17. Earned a Master of Education. Served as Principal at T. H. Rogers Junior High. Administrator at the Houston Community College Northwest Campus. A member of Fairbanks Baptist Church for 75 years. Although Aunt Virginia accomplished amazing things, she could not stop time from ticking away. Nor can we.

As my cousin, Pastor Andy Morris, was about to commend Aunt Virginia’s spirit to sail into the arms of God, I looked down. I saw another red-headed beauty. The Pastor’s three-year-old daughter, Holli. She is innocent. Fair skinned. Oblivious to death. To those mourning near her.

Holli is not the least concerned in the solemnity of this occasion. Holli is only interested in the now. In this moment in time. Her time. In the sand.

In an epiphany I felt that God was writing this prayer for me. For as I stared at the death of the aunt I loved, I saw life. Another child of God like Aunt Virginia. I witnessed how Holli was making use of her time at the Iola Cemetery. Posed as a Norman Rockwell girl, Holli she sat in her dress on the edge of the concrete slab of the pavilion.

Holli, with her tiny hand, gathered a palm full of sand from the ground. Then, Holli carefully lifted her hand in the air and slowly released the sand from her fingers. She intently watched the grains of sand fall from one hand to the other below.

Holli caught some grains of sand. Others fell to the earth. No matter how hard Holli tried to catch all the grains of sand, she could not. Little Holli was making the best use of her time at Aunt Virginia’s burial today. In her long-life Aunt Virginia made the best use of the time God gave her too.

I know that one day, as with my Aunt Virginia, earthly time will run out for you, for me, for Holli. Time is precious. Time on earth ends. The sands of time slip through all our hands. But God’s love is another thing.

As I watched little Holli making use of her time playing with the sand, I heard Andy saying the words committing Aunt Virginia’s body to the ground. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Andy’s commendation was a prayer for Virginia’s Resurrection to eternal life. In her time today, Andy’s red­headed daughter, Holli, was the prayer’s Amen.

Let us pray.

Dear God, I thank You for the gift of life and my time on earth.

God, in prayer may I be ever mindful that time on earth is precious and fleeting. Please help me use my time to live as fully and love as deeply as I can.

God, I thank You for loving me and transforming my human death into eternal life with You in Heaven. Amen.
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If you think Jack’s prayer helps you or will help someone you know, please forward it to them. Jack may never make millions selling books or writing prayers, but spreading God’s good news to others is reward enough for him.
Ann Boland, Jack’s Publicist