Seven Years of Marriage & Praying Widows

I took my wife on a date today. Today’s our 7th wedding anniversary. This was a different kind of a date, I brought my sons along.

I wanted my sons to see the place I married their mommy. I wanted my wife to walk down that isle again and remember the that day when she was 23 and I was 24 and we started our new life together.

So, I drove the family to the South Bay, to the beautiful church where we were married and where I served as a youth pastor for 4.5 years in my early twenties. Taylor and I hadn’t been there in 4 years, since having kids.

My boys climbed on the pews while I told them the story of marrying their mom and showed them the pulpit I used to preach from. Then I heard voices of prayer coming from the room adjacent to the sanctuary… I had forgotten about the Monday morning prayer group.

For over 30 years a small group of women from this church have met every Monday morning for an hour of prayer, praying for the advance of the gospel and for needs in the church and in the community. Many of these women treated me like their grandson during my time there. From time to time I’d join Margaret, Doris, Pat, Winnie, Marilyn, and the other ladies (all women in their 70s, 80s, and 90s) for these prayer meetings. Three of the women have lost their husbands since we last saw each other.

It was so fun to surprise these ladies. They met my sons for the first time. We exchanged big hugs.

As the ladies asked questions we told them about some difficulty we’re facing. They didn’t want to talk about it. They wanted to pray about it. Doris sat us down and led the ladies in praying for our family.

After prayer, Winnie (the shortest and sweetest old woman you’ll ever meet) said something. She told a story. She reminded me/the group of the time I came to the Monday morning prayer meeting 7.5 years ago, dejected and in need, because Taylor had broken up with me and I didn’t know what I was going to do because I was sure this was the woman I was to marry. Winnie talked about how the ladies gathered around and prayed for me. Winnie told of how a few days later we were back together, a few months later she sat in the pew and watched us get married, and now 7 years later we were standing before them with our two boys and a third boy in Taylor’s womb.

What was Winnie’s point? Trust God and trust the power of praying widows. I may owe my marriage to a group of faithful old women who banged the doors of heaven on my behalf.