If I could pick one thing to remember about my grandmother, among the many, it’d be that she was diligent–particularly in the prayer area.
That and the fact that she has a magic refrigerator.
I can’t think of another person in my life who has been so diligent in bugging God for me and about me–even when I was too angry to talk to Him myself.
Big things, little things, in-between things. Things that you don’t think should be significant enough for anyone’s time–yet she’s waking up and laying down and breathing prayers for you. Sometimes in the middle of NCIS. Which is kind of a big deal, if you know Gam.
And, if its important enough, it goes on her refrigerator.
The refrigerator prayer list is reserved for important things. And where you rank is very telling.
Sometimes she’ll call me to say, “Jenny, I put you on my refrigerator. You’re number three right now.” (She wants me to feel honored by that. I always do.)
Big, important things–tho “important” might be a relative term. She won’t put my husband on there; I’ve asked. But she will put strange things one there. Bad weeks at work, fluke illnesses, blind dates.
There was my broken wrist. I took a spill at my friend 30th birthday party–an 80’s themed roller skating fiesta where I face-planted before even completing my first lap around. What was originally guestimated as “you’ll probably need surgery and have a cast for a couple months” (a little disconcerting for someone who types for a living) turned into a few fractures that could be managed with a velcro brace that could be removed to shower. Funny–I told Gam the one thing I was dreading the most was not being able to be fully clean.
An awful burn healed over without needing the skin graft that was talked about–and a bad infection caught before it sent me to the ER.
Losing my license (more on that later) diverted by the weirdest coincidence.
And then there’s my friends. I think she’s picked up on the fact that I feel loved when she loves my friends–so they get Refrigerator Priority. More than I do, actually.
I have a dear childhood friend that had a stroke at age 29. She went straight on the refrigerator to the very top of the list. I know for a fact that Gam prayed for her every day–all day. She’s doing well now and is expecting her 2nd kiddo soon.
Another friend who experienced a few things no girl should ever have to even hear about–she went right up there, too. Immediately, with no questions asked.
And another–Frankenstein’s Grandaughter.
“What’s your little friend’s name, again?” Gam would ask. “Charlie? Chauncey?”
“Oh. Whatever. She’s on my refrigerator. In great big letters!”
Gam could never remember Kelsey. But she could remember that Kelsey’s great grandma was the lady who wrote Frankenstein. So I don’t know if God gives brownie points when he hears “Please Bless Frankenstein’s Grandaughter”–but that’s how Gam remembered her. And I do believe it worked.
Why wouldn’t it?
In her honor–perhaps even to catch some of the magic refrigerator magic–I’ve started my own Refrigerator List. I hope it works as well.
Let me know if you’d ever like to be on it.