Answering My Own Prayers?

"Prayer is attention unfolding into intention. It is purpose, resolution, dedication. Which brings us face to face with the greatest of all spiritual discoveries - that if our prayers are to be answered we must answer them ourselves; that we are already answering our prayers in the mere expression of the desire that they be fulfilled."

John Haynes Holmes

This gem arrived via my friend, Ellen on Facebook, as food for thought on this Fat Tuesday. It will likely be a good companion over the course of Lent as I continue to struggle with where God is in all of this mayhem created by Alzheimer's. I was raised Catholic and in many ways it stays with me. However, what I find myself staggered by in this quote is the notion that I am indeed answering my own prayers by the act of merely expressing them.

My prayers range from moments of gratitude to desperate pleas for patience. In no way do I see Donna's Alzheimer's as a blessing or a curse. It was not given to her or to me to teach us a lesson. It is impossible to believe in a higher power at times, but it's always possible to believe in science. Whatever neurological switch that got flipped is a genetic anomaly. No one gets Alzheimer's from not working enough crossword puzzles, or from smoking, or from exposure to toxins. It simply is. I think the total randomness of Alzheimer's coming into our lives is no different than having a moose wander onto the highway at exactly the wrong moment when a car is driving by.

Living with and loving someone for almost 25 years has taken a tremendous amount of purpose, resolution, and dedication. Being a caregiver requires more of me than at times I feel capable of giving or bearing. Now I find myself strangely comforted that as I shriek inside my own head that I cannot bear this loss...that is a prayer of sorts. And when things are quiet and calm and Donna and I are sitting on the couch with Ripley, and I am in the moment and completely connected to her...that is a prayer of sorts. 

Donna used to talk about Heaven. She would tell me that when she got there that she would say, "Nope, I can't go in...I need to wait for you and Ripley. That other dog (Duley) will stay with me."  I'm glad she envisions an afterlife with those she loves.

So, while I'm still not sure where God has gone, what I do know is that I have not completely given up on the notion that God exists. For now I'll just keep working on answering my own prayers through the expression of the desire that they be fulfilled. 

  Oh, and by the way - we survived the blizzard!