Squeaky Wheel Prayers

Dammit, God, enough already. We leave to go to Georgia to pick mama up and bring her back to the mountains with one friend dying and another friends son facing death. Our friend dies Friday afternoon. Saturday afternoon mama and I drive to see my little home village of Clyattville. Then we go to the Baptist Home to visit Mrs. Clara Dukes, one of mama and daddy’s friends. Mr. Dukes had died a few years ago and Mrs. Dukes had a stroke. This visit was something mama really felt a need to do before she left.
I sat and watched those two old women remember days past... good days, blueberry picking at the Duke’s home, shared vacation time in the mountains, news of children and grandchildren, tough sad days, days of illness and death. As we stood to leave, Mrs. Dukes began to cry, quiet tears tracking down her sad face. We held each other, tears being sopped up by wads of Kleenex, bound together by grief and anger. It isn’t fair that the old have to lose home and place and connection in order to be safe and physically cared for.
Mama has lost her home just as surely as Mrs. Dukes. She, however, does have the consolation of still living in her home here in the mountains near us. Even though it will never be truly the home she longs for in her heart, she has work to do and family close by and grandchildren and great-grandchildren for consolation prizes.
The trip back up the mountain was hard. Traffic was heavy. Michael was pulling a trailer carrying mama’s truck and lawn mower. We were all tired and frazzled from loading up and catching cats and saying good by again to home. After the third traffic jam on the interstate left us crawling along again at the speed of a turtle, I began to get a little angry with you, God.
What tipped me over the edge was the news of our friend Andy’s illness. He is one of yours, God. Who he is and what he does has been important for the advancement of your work here on earth. Because of him, others have seen you in action and felt your love because Andy has loved them. He needs a miracle now and I am not picky about what kind of miracle you send. I would prefer it, of course, if you could heal him overnight but I would settle for gifted doctors and modern medicine curing him.
You haven’t heard the last of this from me, God. Jesus did tell the story about the woman pestering the judge until she got what she needed. So I am going to be a squeaky wheel in your ear reminding you that these folks I love need some help down here. King David, one of our most gifted complainers in prayer, wrote "Give ear to my prayer, O God and hide not thyself from my supplication! Attend to me and answer me. I am overcome by my trouble." Listen up, God, to these children of yours who are overcome with trouble right now. Make haste to come to their aid. Break into the fear and hurt and loneliness. Bring them hope and light and warmth and healing for your Name’s sake. Amen.
P.S. I’ll be talking with you about this again tomorrow, Lord. Brace up. I am going to be a pain in the neck for awhile.