weasel's prayer

weston got in a car accident. it sounds severe.
three people are dead and he is being life-flighted to a hospital now. grandpa sent word (through the great texting family tree...)
say a prayer.

my response disturbed and comforted? me.

i like prayer. it works for me. i love it.
but i closed my eyes, waited for some words -
and nothing.

the obvious prayer is that he will be okay. right this second.
you've never known a person like weasel. or his parents. or siblings. my heart hurts wondering what might happen. i can't imagine the loss and sadness if he...really wasn't okay.

i could pray for comfort, yes. strength, vital. endurance. for him, and his family. and i will.

but life how i want it? not always the best thing.
i've learned enough in my meager experience to know that i don't know the whole story.
i often clearly lack the larger perspective. last month, i planted a tree right in the middle of our most exquisite view. a spindly, little trunk in front of our gigantic, gorgeous, mountain, breakfast-delight.

a faithless cynic? or surrendering to real trust in God?

i guess in a round about way, i am putting words to my personal surrender.
and finding a glimpse of comfort in the conundrum.
i am surrendering.
my will to His.
to accept His will.
and feel my Daddy's love.

And please-
be with weasel.