I've entered a writing challenge and thought it might be nice if I share some of the entries with my blog readers...I won't post every entry as I'm sure they won't all be interesting, but I liked this one and thought I'd share. The topic was:
When you pray, move your feet
And here it is...
Dear Gabriel,
When I prayed, YOU moved your feet.
I don't put much stock in prayer; the thought of saying things out loud to "God" seems ridiculous to my logical brain and yet...I prayed for you every single day I knew what was in store for you. I prayed to God, Buddha, the universe....anyone who might hear my cries and answer my request, anyone or anything that might help ease the anxiety, fear, and pain I was feeling. I knew you'd never be society's standard of normal or typical, but I prayed you'd be the best you you could be...
And at 22 months, after literally praying for years, you moved your feet and you walked.
I prayed and you moved your feet.
But...was it prayer that made you move your feet? Of course it wasn't. In case you aren't aware of the meaning of the phrase "When you pray, move your feet" (and I wasn't until tonight) it basically means, God helps those who help themselves-basically talk the talk and walk the walk-make sure you aren't just putting those words out into the universe and thinking that's all you have to do.
Did I pray for walking? Yes, of course I did. Did I do anything to make sure you would walk? You're damn right I did. Hours and hours and more hours of therapy and research and tears and frustration and literally a million dollars in medical debt and YOU moved your feet.
One of my biggest hopes for you, Gabe is that you always remember that words are just words and mean nothing if you don't put actions behind them. You can talk till you're blue in the face but at the end of the day, if all you've done is talk, you've accomplished nothing. Be a man of action, not words and you, too, will see that when YOU pray FEET will move.
Love,
Momma
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