Somebody’s Praying For You
I talk to my husband about her like she’s an act that performed their last show and won’t be on the road again for awhile.
I secretly – and not so secretly – observe her.
And as I stand there watching this barely five foot, long black haired, foreign accented woman interact with her three children under five years old…
I marvel –
I’m in awe of how she handles two tiny, sweet, blonde-haired, pre-school girls and a boy that’s barely walking.
My jaw drops when I watch them walk to the car and she doesn’t lose her shit as all three scurry like ants.
I energetically bow at her feet, try and soak up all of her grace + then I pray for her…and for me.
Because motherhood, dammit.
Why am I so stunned by this woman?
Well, because, I’m short + black-haired with NO foreign accent, and have only one hell-raiser, blonde-haired, five-year old…
and feel like I’m busting at the seams most of the time in this whole motherhood thing.
And a part of me wishes I was that composed, that graceful with my ONE kid.
Why the hell am I praying for practically a complete stranger?
Because it feels good in my bones.
Because it was my way of my soul recognizing her soul.
Because prayer doesn’t hurt.
Because why the fuck not?
I believe in prayer.
I believe in sending love to a complete stranger.
I believe were not in this alone.
I believe an invisible force is lifting us up when we can barely lift our own head.
I don’t know your beliefs, or what encompasses your world –
What pain you’ve endured, or what triumph you’ve celebrated.
And I don’t fully know what praying for a relative stranger, or sending love to someone actually does…
But, I can say that it makes me feel lighter and light is most definitely something the world could handle more of.
Whatever makes you feel “lighter” – perhaps do that, so maybe someone else feels the way you do.
Love + A Lighter World,