The Notebook

It's a plain old spiral notebook. Probably bought at the back-to-school sale for a dime... or a quarter. The Wal-Mark always has some crazy special in late summer so we stock up. Once in a while a grandbaby gets ahold of it and draws a picture of a dinosaur with a purple marker. When we get to one of those we just smile, turn another page and keep on going. We've filled up several over the years... one Monday at a time. Passed from hand to hand down the couch and across to the recliner... sometimes to one sitting cross-legged on the rug. The date is at the top of the page - so we can look back and remember. And give thanks. Then comes each of our names on a line followed by the names of those for whom we are praying that night. A word or two of description to jog our memory when we scan back. Some are marked with tears. Make that many. Our families are in there... we've prayed through illness and weddings, surgeries and babies, heartbreak and unbridled joy. Our friends and co-workers march across the lines. Enemies have even been known to show up in the notebook. Sometimes the same request is repeated week after week, year after year. We know exactly what "without ceasing" means. We do it all the time. Our hearts have been split wide open and poured out onto those wide-ruled lines. We have wound up in the floor more times that we can count, groaning and dripping snot onto clasped hands and open Bibles. It gets real. And the level of trust among these dear ones is heaven-high. We hold grace gently for one another in outstretched hands. Mercy-offerings tucked into our purses to carry home. The tears are tempered with belly-deep-laughter and Mondays always end with a round of hugs.

Every now and again we page back to report on what's happened. And we are astounded. Prodigals returned. Jobs found. Families reunited. Health restored. Hearts mended. Tests passed - with A's to boot! Missionaries sent. Wanderers home... It's not always happy. Death comes. Disappointment remains. Doors close. But even when the answers are not what we wanted, there's peace. When we get to those days, we can still turn another page and keep going.

Word has gotten out about the notebook and sometimes folks will call up and ask us to put them in the book. Of course, we do. There's one thing we are clear about though. There's no magic in the notebook. It's as ordinary as you can get. And there's nothing special about this Monday crew - we're pretty simple folks. It's the One who reads every line...and in-between... Who's extraordinary. We are just keeping track. And holding out hope. Expecting nothing... and everything. Holding hands and turning pages, one at a time. Well, and standing up against the forces of wickedness in the world. We do that, too. But anybody can do that. With a little faith. And a ten cent notebook. Maybe pick you one up next time you're at the Wal-Mark and see what happens. Turn some pages. Selah.