"As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame; / [ . . . ] Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: / Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; / Selves -- goes itself; 'myself' it speaks and spells, / Crying 'What I do is me; for that I came'." --Gerard Manley Hopkins

17 August 2005


We are in the midst of faculty workshops. Monday, Jeff Myers, founder of Passing the Baton, International, inspired, convicted, encouraged us in our mentoring of young people. He is a gifted speaker and wise believer, passionate about the Lord and His work in people’s lives. I came away with a notebook full of insight that it will be a joy and a challenge to reflect on and consider.

But Jeff most humbled and encouraged me in a simple exchange when I greeted him before the seminar began.

Humbled not in the sense of humiliated or made me feel like a worm. Rather, humbled in the sense of making me understand the grace and loveliness of my Lord.

I haven’t seen Jeff in months. He no longer teaches at the college, and though he lives in town, our paths rarely cross. We were both involved with a national conference a few years ago, which had us on the same plane a couple of times in travels to Dallas for planning and Denver for the conference itself, and in the airports and between sessions, we got to know something of each other’s dreams and gifts and ways of knowing our Lord.

When I greeted Jeff Monday morning, the first thing he said was, “I prayed for you several times this summer.” Now, those of you who know me know that prayer is the most difficult of the disciplines for me. I try not to be a “get me out of this” pray-er, but it’s close. And I certainly haven’t been praying for Jeff. I’d thought of him now and then with gratefulness for his work and hope that his family was doing well, but not prayer, not speaking to God on his behalf.

But he had prayed for me several times. And I was humbled. Because his graciousness showed me once again the grace of the Lord, how He cares for us even when we don’t pay much attention to Him, upholds us when we are just sort of wandering along, calls us by His very kindness to remember Him.

It was a good summer. And Jeff reminded me that one reason is the prayers of people who love me enough to lift me up whether I know it or whether I have the discipline or love to do the same for others. To all of you, thanks. May God bless you richly for allowing His love to flow through you in this very special way.


Lisa (Froggyhead) said...


I'm guilty of not praying for others, too. Every now and then I remember and I'm always grateful for those times. As I get older I find I am more moved by the thought of someone praying for me than I once was. It really does make one feel buttressed.

Thanks for sharing your experience. You have reminded me to pray this day.

alaiyo said...

Thanks, Lisa. And thanks for the link over at Messy Musings.

I've been amazed at how these past weeks have gone, and especially the one just past -- an exhausting time of so much, so much to do. Yet I have not been panicked and harried, as I usually am. I can only conclude that someone is praying for me diligently and be grateful.



Pamela said...

This is something I experienced in the last days and weeks as I prepared to leave for Guam. Countless times, you and others reached out to me, cared for me, supported me, let me know love and kindness, and I cannot repay or even keep count of the occurences. I was so humbled, and I notice now this connection between humility and delight--I was loved and could not adequately meet the expressions of grace. I love it and am trying to learn to recieve it, guilt-free. What a trip! Blessings on you!