There are a bazillion ways to tackle the business of intercession. A few:
The complete abandonment to the will of God angle. Sooner or later everyone has to break down and go this route, unless you’re just naturally martyr-y. So I’m immensely grateful for those of you who’ve been praying for me in this regard, because it’s one thing to be working at it, and it’s another to succeed. With your assistance, I’m doing pretty well in the CAWOG department.
Peace & Joy. People use the word “serenity” sometimes, and that’s not far off the mark, but P&J can be a tad louder, a little more rambunctious. The soul is like that still lake at sunset, yes, but I say the heart ought to be more like water-skiing on that still lake at sunset.
(If you’ve never water-skied on a glassy lake, try it next time you get the chance. Unforgettable, if you’ve got any sense whatsoever.)
Those of you who’ve been praying for P&J, keep at it. My kids are so well behaved this week it’s just silly. But not Stepford-behaved. We’re talking happy and beautiful and alive. It’s been a very, very good week.
Asking for Stuff. The Complete Abandonnement to the W.O.G. folks and the Peace & Joy folks have pride of place in Christian spirituality, but Askers make the world go round. You just can’t be eaten by lions and get much done at the same time. So if you’re an asker, it’ll please you to be specific. And here’s how you should be specific on my behalf:
Please pray for an accurate diagnosis today.
When I tossed this request out to a few folks nine days ago, it was more of a wish list item. Serious situation, needs to be rectified ASAP, and the No Diagnosis Circle of Hell is not a fun place to be. (Medical professionals: Take care of your souls, or you’ll spend eternity in unbearable physical torment, while being told the whole time, “Maybe you just need to relax.”)
Like the plot to any good story, a week later the stakes are raised. Over the past week it’s gone from “let someone else take care of the house,” to getting winded and coughing and exhausted from sitting at the dinner table. I mean, dinner’s great. Best dinners we’ve had an ages – no kids complaining about the food, everyone shows up, very few episodes of revolting, stomach-churning juvenile humor. There’s even very good beer to be had along with.
And maybe dinners’s so good because it’s brief. But brief it has to be.
So. An accurate diagnosis. Because if things proceed apace, assume that no diagnosis is a fatal diagnosis.
–> Which would mean all you Askers would have to upgrade to P&J, and then after that, upgrade again to CAWOG. Is that what you want to do? Really?
No you don’t. Nine annoying things. Hop on it.
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