Where Two or More Are Gathered...

Today has been one of those days. Dear Husband left early and has to work late. The boys seem to be constantly screeching, crying and picking at each other. The weather is cloudy and strange, ready to storm -- so we had to cancel a daytrip to the beach and can't go to our usual parks. Just about everything was annoying me, and I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding my frustration.

After a wretched morning trying to exchange something at a store, I brought the boys back home and sent them out to play in the backyard. I sat alone in the kitchen and tried to pray, asking God for help and forgiveness. I know He was listening, but I just wasn't "feeling" it.


Finally, I got a hold of a dear friend, who patiently let me complain about everything while her own three children vied for her attention. After I got it all out, she said, "Let's pray about this."

Now, most of us Catholics are not very good about this sort of thing. We're great at saying, "I'll pray for you today," but not "I'll pray with you. Right now." Frankly, if I need immediate prayers, I call my pentecostal or evangelical friends!

Even yesterday, I was on the phone with another dear friend who was dealing with some heavy circumstances. Not only were she and her family going through just about every transition possible, but her doctor told her she had a 50-50 chance of hospitalized bedrest for the last four months of her third pregnancy -- which probably would end with a pre-term, emergency C-section. (Please pray for her and her baby!)

I tried to be as sympathetic and consoling as possible, but I felt like nothing I could say would help her feel better. I asked her, "What can I do for you? I wish there was something..." I could have prayed with her, of course. Right then. That would have probably been the only thing I could have done to help. But I didn't even think of it.

God bless my dear friend today, who did think of it, and did it, and helped me like I could not help myself. After her prayerful words over the phone, the tears fell and the weight lifted. I hung up with her, and held out my arms to my boys and hugged them tight. I told them, "Please forgive me. I'm sorry. I love you."

And I'm grateful, too. As Sirach 6:15 says, "There is nothing so precious as a faithful friend, and no scales can measure his excellence."