From The Book of Common Prayer
For a Sick Person
O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help in time of need: We humbly beseech thee to behold, visit, and relieve thy sick servant N. for whom our prayers are desired. Look upon him with the eyes of thy mercy; comfort him with a sense of thy goodness; preserve him from the temptations of the enemy; and give him patience under his affliction. In thy good time, restore him to health, and enable him to lead the residue of his life in thy fear, and to thy glory; and grant that finally he may dwell with thee in life everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Thy Sick Servant Mom
Before I left for the hospital on Friday,
my son wanted to pray with me.
He found the prayer “For a Sick Person”
in the Book of Common Prayer
and read the words that so many have prayed.
“Thy sick servant N”
became “Thy sick servant Mom,”
and all those masculine pronouns
were changed for me
as my son brought me before the Lord,
asked God to behold, visit, relieve,
asked for mercy
and comfort
and goodness
and preservation
and patience.
He asked for the “residue of my life,”
a gift we are not at all guaranteed.
And in the hospital,
as I breathed when the needles went in,
and hugged the X-ray machine as instructed,
and lay back and received the blood given for me,
I prayed for myself, too:
“Have mercy on thy sick servant, me!
How did I end up here
in this room
on this island
in the middle of a pandemic
wrapped in so much love?
Even if the residue of my life is only this moment,
how blessed I am!”
And then I came home on Monday,
restored to health,
rejoicing,
the prayers all answered,
sick servant me
beheld, visited, relieved,
the mercy granted,
the comfort bestowed,
the goodness lavished,
my body preserved,
the residue of my life ahead,
my son wanted to pray with me.
He found the prayer “For a Sick Person”
in the Book of Common Prayer
and read the words that so many have prayed.
“Thy sick servant N”
became “Thy sick servant Mom,”
and all those masculine pronouns
were changed for me
as my son brought me before the Lord,
asked God to behold, visit, relieve,
asked for mercy
and comfort
and goodness
and preservation
and patience.
He asked for the “residue of my life,”
a gift we are not at all guaranteed.
And in the hospital,
as I breathed when the needles went in,
and hugged the X-ray machine as instructed,
and lay back and received the blood given for me,
I prayed for myself, too:
“Have mercy on thy sick servant, me!
How did I end up here
in this room
on this island
in the middle of a pandemic
wrapped in so much love?
Even if the residue of my life is only this moment,
how blessed I am!”
And then I came home on Monday,
restored to health,
rejoicing,
the prayers all answered,
sick servant me
beheld, visited, relieved,
the mercy granted,
the comfort bestowed,
the goodness lavished,
my body preserved,
the residue of my life ahead,
my son hugging me in the garden.
Amen!
Amen!
Ruth, from thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
Our topic for August is Spiritual Art. I wanted to write about my seventeen-year-old praying for me, while the beauty and holiness of those moments remained with me. I spent last weekend in the hospital and came home with many symptoms I have been living with for a long time just gone. I could not be more grateful to God for what He has done for me.
10 comments:
Such a beautiful poem! What a wonderful son!
So lovely.
Such a poignant post, and so much blessing. I'm so relieved for you, so glad you feel better. What a faith-filled son you have raised. Rejoice!
Ruth - those are truly such holy moments, your son petitioning God on your behalf. What a gift he is. Grace in action. This line of your verse particularly caught me: "Even if the residue of my life is only this moment, how blessed I am!” How well we should all do to remember that... continued healing to you and thank you (and your boy) for blessing us this day.
-Fran
Ruth, I am so relieved you are healing and home. What a lovely poem about your son's prayer. I can only imagine his worry for you. You are blessed!
Thank goodness, Ruth! I'm so sorry you had to go through sickness and all that worry. Thank goodness for your precious son to wrap you in much-needed prayer. What a great kid. Hugs to him. Thank you for turning such an anxious time into beautiful words and witness.
So happy to hear that you're home and on the mend. What a tender gesture for your son to pray with you before you left for the hospital. And your poem captures this time perfectly. Praising God for goodness lavished! And for your faithful son.
Ruth....this, all of it will stay with me. It is loving and beautiful and a testament of your good work on this earth. Your son, (17???? already), is a shining example of parenting that nurtures, leads, endures. I am glad for hugging in the garden and feeling so well. Blessings.
Janet Clare F.
Ruth,
I finally got back power and got to read your post. I was so touched by your poem and your son's amazing faith. Like Fran, I want to compliment you for your powerful line, "Even if the residue of my life is only this moment, how blessed I am!” That is an amazingly humble thought that is filled with gratitude. I always say that life is fragile and uncertain so your family's faith is a tribute to the bounty of the Lord's blessings. May you continue to grow in health and grace. Thank you for sharing your story in verse.
Ruth, I am so happy for you that you are healing. Prayer matters and what a beautiful testament that your son filled your heart with such love and devotion. God is good and watches over His faithful followers. Your humble story in verse is a beautiful gratitude prayer for your healing. May the hugs in your garden continue to replenish your strength and long-term healing process.
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