It’s been quite awhile since I’ve turned to my blog in order to sort out my thoughts on any subject.
I’m not sure why, but I’ve entered a realm where I am tired of thinking. My mind is not sharp, it is quite dull. But I’ll post a story here from recent weeks:
I have been receiving several documents in the mail as of late, in preparation for an upcoming court hearing. I’m being sued by a lawyer for the legal fees incurred by my husband. Since he is incarcerated (I think that is the first time I’ve shared that on this blog) and will remain there for another 13 years or so, his guardian ad litem (court appointed attorney in the civil case, not his criminal case) is seeking payment of the legal fees. My lawyer is pretty confident that the judge will rule that the state will pay the fees as opposed to me paying them.
All that to say, as a result, my mailbox has been receiving a renewed onslaught of legal documents.
The latest was a notification from my lawyer to the other lawyer, acknowledging the date set for the hearing. Pretty standard stuff, except for this time the wording caught my eye:
“And the defendant will ever pray, etc”
That was the closing line of this newest document. The defendant will ever pray. Now, I understand that this is legal terminology, that history has dictated in the formal respect driven world of law. But those words made me pause and think:
Defendant refers to “the party against which an action is brought”, acccording to the American Heritage Dictionary. An action has been brought against me. It reminds me of Psalms, so many of them, where the author of the Psalms pleas with God to protect him from those who would bring an action against the author. I am a defendant. But not just in this civil case, I am a defendant in this world. This is not home, this existence on earth. How I long for home.
“And the defendant will ever pray, etc.”
Legal jargon yes. However, it caused me to examine my mind and soul and to reconsider prayer, real prayer. This sentence does not say that I might pray. It does not say that I should pray. It says that I, the defendant, will EVER pray. Difficult English to understand, maybe. But I take it to mean that the defendant will continually pray. What other choice is there? There is none. Unceasing prayer. 1 Thessalonians 5:17.
Do I continually pray? No, far from it. Do I need to be continually praying–O yes, because where else do I have to go? What other options lead to sanity, to peace, to direction, except through prayer, the catalyst for relationship to God. It’s the stuff John 6:68 is made of–To whom shall I go except to Jesus? Because He has the words of eternal life. I do not. I do not.
I mostly am writing this story, so as to preach it to myself. Tonight I do not feel well. Tomorrow is another long day away from my kids, working all day. I, the defendant, need to ever pray, etc. And that etc.? My personal et cetera must incorporate scripture work, must incorporate quiet time alone to pray, to write, to think, to study, and to pray again. I have neglected these things as of late, out of fatigue. But they must take priority, if this defendant, by the grace of God, is going to survive.
