A while back I wrote a post about how I assume my parents pray for me, and that's all fine and good since I know it brings them comfort, even if I don't believe it actually has any causative power. I also wrote how I would prefer they don't inform me that they pray for my return to the church, out of respect for my world view. Further, I find it offensive to believe that god would help me on my exams or whatever, just because I or someone else prayed for it, while apparently ignoring bigger problems in the world like thousands of dying in natural disasters and wars, just because they aren't praying to him, too. But I realize that as believers, they will and do pray for me, and I've accepted that, and they've had the good sense to keep it to themselves.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Until the other day.
I was talking to my mom on the phone, informing her of my latest health woes (now you know why I haven't left the country yet), and at the end of the conversation, I could tell she was hesitating about something. Finally, she blurted out, "Well, I'm praying for you. I know you don't believe in that stuff...but I do. So I still pray for you."
Her tone was upbeat and friendly, enough to make me laugh in reaction. It didn't seem self-righteous or like she was trying to shove her beliefs onto me at all; it was just a statement. It was almost a little apologetic, like she was very aware I held different ideas than her.
So I told her that's fine. And it felt fine, too. Praying for me during my hard times is something she does to feel a little bit more in control of circumstances way beyond her control, and a little bit of comfort. And that doesn't seem so bad, does it?