What I Learned from A Coal Miner about Prayer
Joseph’s first ten days of life were spent in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.
I have sketchy memories of that time, a blurriness which extends for several months.
Two conversations are clear, however. The first was when a grizzled giant of an elderly retired coal miner told he was praying for me. “Yeah, sure, thanks,” I said. “Better to pray for him and his doctors and nurses.”
“They’re on my prayer list,” he said. “But I’m praying for you.”
Days went by. Joseph came home. Joseph was baptized. Frequent trips to various specialists filled the calendar on the refrigerator. Joseph began to get healthier.
My second clear memory is of another conversation. Several months later. Same coal miner. I told him that I thought I finally understood what he’d said. At a time when it felt like my own prayers piled up on the floor around my feet, he was praying FOR me.
Because right then, I could not pray.
He’d taught me a lot about prayer, and I thanked him.
His eyes got watery and he grabbed me and hugged me so hard I crunched.
Two questions for you and me today:
Who has prayed for you like he prayed for me, and for whom are you praying like that today?
joescheets 
I love that story. I heard it at TLC and I think of it often. I try to pray for others and hope someone is helping me pray. Thanks for sharing.
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One of your best!
Sent from my iPad
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