MK forum

My grandmother recently passed away. She was 97. Learning to pray with her is one of my earliest memories. My mom was an only child, so when my parents became missionaries, all of her grandchildren moved overseas.

Prayers
My small hands folded, held in yours.
"Now I Lay Me" and "Our Father"
Whispered together in the safety of your arms.

My small hands folded, your empty arms;
Silent tears fall unnoticed.
An ocean between us … alone …
We pray together:

“God bless the lost ones in their tribes,
for them we sacrifice our lives.

God bless all my family,
none of whom is here with me.

Don't let them die before they wake;
it would be more than I could take.

Forgive my sins, I know there are lots;
all the 'shoulds' and 'should have nots'.

Your kingdom come, but not today;
not while my family is so far away.

Thy will be done; I lay down mine.
I'm but a channel; all glory thine.”

Ancient hands folded, cool in mine.
You feel so small;
your bent frame tucked in my arms.
Our cheeks press together as we remember...
and continue the prayer begun so long ago.

Journey, that is so beautiful, and so heart-wrenchingly moving.

What a precious memory, of learning to pray with your grandmother.
As a grandmother myself I can imagine the pain of being separated from all my grandchildren ... almost intolerable.

Your family has endured a lifetime of separation ... multigenerational separation.

All for the sake of "The Cause".

Tears for you, dear Journey.

Thank you, Catstiptoes.

Yes, those field days are happy memories for our family: when the MKs from Aritao and the MKs from Bagabag would get together for a soccer game or other sports.

It is heartbreaking to realize decades later that some of the happy faces were hiding sad and frightened hearts.