I’ve spent the past several Sundays in a church in another part of the country.
The first Sunday I noticed there were several families with developmentally disabled children, and it made me smile. I have to tell my sister Beth about this, I thought.
My niece Hannah has Down Syndrome, and I am always happy when I see people with disabilities of any sort included in society. But in the flurry of that week, I forgot to say anything.
The second week I noted that one of the ushers had Down Syndrome. There were also several people in wheelchairs, a couple with two autistic boys, and several very frail elderly people.
They’re doing something right here, I thought, and made a mental note again to mention it to Beth.
The third Sunday I remembered that I’d forgotten again to tell my sister. Then it dawned on me that I’d forgotten something worse: for two weeks I’d noticed people with special needs, and it hadn’t occurred to me to pray for them.
How sad is that? If something–or someone–worth commenting upon, isn’t that an indicator that it’s worthy of prayer?
So I prayed for the children I saw at the service, for their parents who care enough to bring them to church even though it’s difficult, for the parishioners who make them welcome, and for all those who provde services to them.
And I made a new rule for myself: if you see something, pray something. If I’m going to open my mouth, I’d better be willing to open my heart, too.
