Prayer. And a Call to action

There were never set intentions on subject matter for this blog. 

Sure, I expect a bulk of it will revolve around Dylan, his experiences in the military, and the parallel paths those experiences are inevitably going to take me on as his mother.  But what I’m discovering is that as I watch Dylan on this difficult, yet glorious journey, the thoughts in my own head, the emotions I’m trying gracefully to feel, continue to serve up a better version of myself I want to strive to be.

I actually hadn’t planned to blog for a few more weeks. We just got back from a wonderful two-week vacation, and week one back in the work and domestic saddle is, well, generally uninspiring. I am not one of those people who comes back from vacation fresh, perky, and rested – I come back wishing I had a big, fat winning lottery ticket, which would allow me to quickly retire and permanently travel for the rest of whatever life I have left on this earth.  But, reality ensues, and I spent this whole week just trying to remember how to type work emails and proposals.  I gracefully set the bar low for myself on what needed to get accomplished this week, but yet here I am, blogging.

Coincidentally, the day I was boarding a plane for vacation to Tennessee, Dylan was boarding planes, trains, and automobiles (literally) for Germany.  Yes, he had finally gotten his orders!  It was strange to think that this time last summer he had been with us on our 3-week road trip to South Dakota, and that this summer was so vastly different.  What had transpired in his life in the last twelve months is astonishing as I thought about it, and it felt a bit strange traveling without him.  Fortunately, his travels were safe, as were ours.

Over the past week since I’ve settled back in at home, and as Dylan continues to settle into another new environment in a new country, I am flooded with reminders of how frequently I prayed on that trip. It was mostly for Dylan but wasn’t just for Dylan – it was for safe flights, safe road travels in that jam-packed suburban we had with 7 of my most favorite people (+luggage).  And also for the three of us in the group that chose to ride that ridiculously scary roller coaster at Dollywood.  I’ll spare you from where my mind wandered as that harness I was hanging from clicked slowly up that 22+ story climb, peaked at the top, and then plummeted straight down towards what was sure to be my certain death. 

Fortunately, tragedy was averted. Back on task. 

I am admittedly a silent believer.  Well, maybe not so silent anymore.  Prayer, to me, is very personal and emotional, so I don’t take it lightly.  And I don’t do it publicly.  I don’t practice religion, and don’t need church, prayer circles, and hand holding to ask God for what I need in life’s moments – but to each his own. Of course, I can be comfortable with those practices when situations call for it, and I fully support those who feel their most godly in these ways.  I am in no way what some might label a holy roller – I curse, I drink, my nose is pierced, I have a thing for tattoos, metal music is my fav, and 80% of my wardrobe is black.  And none of these characteristics make me any less of a believer than an every-Sunday church goer.

What came to me in those moments of silent prayer, is that my prayers for Dylan have really allowed me to lean-in to my support for him.  Prayer and my faith in God’s plan for Dylan ease away the scariness, the uncertainty, the worry – for me. But do they do the same for Dylan?  And to further this thought, will they do the same for someone else I pray for?   Do prayers mean the same thing to everyone? The honest answer? Probably not.  I talked to Dylan about praying.  He prays extensively, and he is genuinely appreciative when others pray for him; but his prayers, and God’s voice inside his own heart, have the most impact on him.  Now hearing this, I don’t want people to think that they should stop praying for Dylan, or for anyone else for that matter.  But it raises the question – is there something more?

I realize that outside of a select few, most of the people closest to me are not of strong faith, some with no faith at all.  And that’s ok, I love them anyway, and pray for them and whatever circumstances life throws at them. 

End of this week, a friend graciously shared an impromptu piece they had written with me.  The inspiration for the piece was, oddly enough, sparked by an artist’s video on TikTok.  This particular friend has a way with the written word that genuinely puts mine to shame, and I admit I haven’t stopped thinking about it for a few days since I read it. It was personal, and it’s not my place to share details, but what manifested in me from my read of this gem is how for those of us who do believe, God shows Himself to us when we need Him – in our thoughts, and maybe even in our actions.

In this very piece of writing was a realization that He was there when someone lacked recognition and appreciation from their circle of people; He was celebrating and championing my friend all along, and perhaps even acting my friend to put those thoughts on paper.  And in the case of this military mama?  Crying with me the past 7 months as I’ve navigated loss and grief I was ill prepared to handle, but also calling me to action in feverish support to Dylan, mustering a deep strength in me I never knew I had. And maybe, just maybe, He was even there at Dollywood, coaxing me to act and ride that roller coaster, reminding me what it was like to feel like a thrill-seeking teenager again, all while protecting me from harm.

And so I’ve realized. He’s been here for me, all this time - I just hadn’t really noticed.  Or perhaps I did, and it was fleeting, perhaps not allowing myself to hold much space for Him in particular periods of life. Or more likely, I didn’t want to acknowledge it, whether from embarrassment, outside influence and opinions, or even immaturity.

Until now.

And what I think He would want us to do, for those in our life who perhaps don’t believe, who don’t pray, who don’t believe in prayer, who question a higher power all together – is for those of us who do, to act as He would.  Take what He graciously provides in us, no matter how big or small, and act it into our people, any people for that matter, especially when they need it most.  Match our actions with that person in your life, their particular situation.  Sure, we can talk about God, and our faiths, and what we believe, but hasn’t the saying always been actions speak louder than words?  I feel like God has acted in me, and I want to act Him into others, as maybe thoughts and prayers just aren’t enough.

And yes, actions can still mean words. Real words, real conversations, even difficult and uncomfortable ones.  Acknowledgement and support of someone’s personal struggles; kind words, heartfelt gestures, genuine encouragement, meaningful appreciation, sincere gratitude, generous donations, whether time or resources.  Truthful and meaningful, from the depths of our hearts.

Don’t want to pray for someone?  Aren’t overly enthused about my prayers for you? That’s ok. Pay a kind act forward instead. 

I admit – I don’t outwardly act out kindness in this way enough.  It’s not always easy for me, and maybe it’s not for you either – but my gosh is it incredibly simple.  And with a more recognized faith, I have created an openness inside myself where I can whole-heartedly try. 

Pretty likely some of you reading this are going to be on the receiving end of these efforts soon enough., so you can rest assured an alien has not taken over my body.

I am here for it, and hope you can find it in yourself to do the same.