By Ali G.
This morning in chapel, we offered up intercessory prayers, prayers for others. The usual prayers were said quietly, prayers for those we love, our best friends, our families, those who have left the school under less than ideal conditions and those who have recently graduated. But this morning, there was something new: Deacon Barbara concluded with “And pray for those for whom nobody prays, and for those for whom you have promised to pray for, but have forgotten.”
Those two requests were really powerful for me. I thought of all the people who had written me off as a lost cause before coming to the school, the friends who, after a while, didn’t bother trying to get me to stop my reckless behaviors. Had somebody been praying for me when I had cast everybody in my life aside? I guess I’ll never know, but I know God heard something. Perhaps it was not to the prayers of others, and certainly not any prayer of mine, for no pious words had crossed my lips for years before coming to this school, but perhaps to the silent longing of my heart, to be with him and to be safe.
There’s nothing more I wish than for every person I love, and even those I may not, to find their own Higher Power and be one with him. I commit, day by day, to say a prayer for each person I hurt, and for those who hurt me. To say a prayer for those whom I miss and those who miss me, to find a God that means something to them in their soul. And night-by-night, my head hits the pillow and frankly, I forget. Sometimes I say to myself, Well, it’s God, he’s omnipotent, he knew that I meant to pray for them.
But then I really start to wonder, who prays for those people, who I promise to pray for and promptly write off? Nobody? The power of prayer is indisputable, and God deserves my best.
Yes, the words Deacon Barbara spoke this morning really got me thinking, on a crazy track that I’m not even sure I’ve resolved yet in my head, but tonight I know I’ll pray for the forgotten, for the love of my God who has never even once forgotten me.
