He…(with a prayer request)

I prefer to write about things after the Lord has made beauty from the ashes, when they can be tied up in a neat bow. I often feel convicted otherwise, revealing the mess beneath the picture we are supposed to show as Christians. The mess that doesn’t have it all figured out. The mess that has emotions swirling, and questions unanswered. I used to think that meant a lack of faith, but God used the life of our Thomas to teach me that the opposite is true. Having questions doesn’t indicate a lack of faith, anymore than being a mess makes one less a follower of Jesus. On the contrary, questions are the birth place of faith, when we ask the right One for the answer. And, being a mess…well that just means all the more grace for me…and for you, if you happen to be a mess, too.

Still I like to write here after the mess is all cleaned up.

This isn’t one of those times. This is one of the times when it’s 1:09 am and I am awake with the words and feelings that I’m not sure if I have any right feeling, while he lies in a hospital bed needing our prayers.

He is the father to my brothers.

He is a person I called dad from preschool until I was thirteen.

He made my mother laugh for many years.

My favorite pictures of her are the ones he took. I loved her smile, and her laugh. It was evident that the person on the other end of the camera adored her. He did.

He is the reason I love the Cleveland Browns, because I grew up watching the game with him. (I’m not sure if I should thank him for that.)

He is the one who taught me to sing and helped me prepare for my very first musical audition.

He helped us with our homework while mom worked second shift at the factory.

His parents were among those I have called Grandma and Grandpa, and we ate dinner with them many Sundays of my childhood. Until I was thirteen.

He probably has no idea that I still think of him, and I have no idea if he ever wonders about me. It’s much easier to sit behind the computer screen and pour it out here. Even easier than that, to not so much as graze the places of my heart that remember those years.

Love says to see others the way the Lord sees them…to look for the beauty and redemption in each person who crosses our path. To do that, I suppose we have to look. We aren’t allowed to close our eyes or our hearts, even if we think doing so will protect us from all the feelings. They really just get hidden under one of our stinky onion layers anyway, only to ooze out later in one form of self-destruction or another. Better to look, better to feel, better to take it all to the only One big enough to heal the broken places.

He is the father of my brothers, two of the most precious gifts given to my mother.

And, he is in the hospital, awaiting open heart surgery in the morning. Please pray for him, and for all those who love him.



  1. I’m praying Kelly & thinking of you. {{{{{{<3}}}}}}

  2. always, friend.

  3. praying

  4. praying. and your words can’t be truer. very heartfelt. that’s what the heart is meant to do….feel.

  5. Kelly, I GET this post. I so get it. Someday, over Olive Garden perhaps, I’ll explain why I get it. But for now, I’ll just pray.

  6. I’m praying for him!

  7. Praying that all went well Kelly xxxx

  8. Mary Koppenhofer says:

    Thanks for this, and for calling Chris to let him know. He’s feeling similarly conflicted. We’re thanking God that the surgery went well and that everything went well, too.

  9. Looks as though I’m a little late on praying for the surgery, but I will definitely be praying for a fast healthy recovery!

    Hope you are doing well…

  10. I am praying that all went well with his surgery. I love how you are able to put so much meaning and beauty into a post. Keeping his family in my prayers. ((HUGS)) to you.

Leave a Comment