Sandra Heska King

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If I Should Die

October 6, 2011 By Sandra Heska King

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

I remember.

I’d pray this little prayer every night in my head in my little bed in the little (I mean little–I stood in it again this summer) room that I shared with my brother and sister. Later I added the Lord’s Prayer. Together they made up my before-I-go-to-sleep ritual through nursing school and even after.

I prayed another prayer. “God, I’m going outside now. When I come back I want a whole pile of money on the bed.”

I guess I took the whole ask-and-you’ll-receive thing a bit far.

He never answered that prayer, and I began to doubt.

Then there was this one, when Grandma Dummer lay in a hospital bed–pneumonia, I think.

“God, please don’t let her die. I’m only ten. I think I could handle it better when I’m eleven.”

He didn’t answer that one, either.

Today I pulled out my prayer journal.

A prayer folder, really. Stuffed with sheets torn from various notebooks. I spread them out on Lil’s highchair tray. There are the ones that start in January 1980, written out with a blue fountain pen, the one with the cartridge.

January 15, 1980: “Lord, drum into this styrofoam head that I need approval from no man.”

Styrofoam? Huh?

February 5, 1980: “Why am I so tired all the time? I can’t concentrate on friends or conversation and am absolutely no help to anyone!”

August 8, 1980: “Oh, to have the patience of Mama Mouse with six young nursing ones attached firmly to her pregnant tummy as she walked around her aquarium!”

Say what?

February 3, 1981: Lord, I trust in your timing, in your purpose. Yet I’m so disappointed. My period started last night.

March 8, 1981: Lord, I want to write!

July 21, 1981: I yelled! How ugly the words! How can I be so awful? How could I make this such a miserable night?

July 22, 1981: All I want is your will for my life. I want to know you.

July 22, 1981: I’m crying again. I’m doing it a lot. Will I ever grow up?

October 4, 1981, (2 a.m.): In pursuit.

October 5, 1981: Today I mail my first article to a Christian magazine.

I find thoughts about resigning jobs, leaving churches, moving, infertility, marriage and money struggles, surgery, the adoption of our firstborn.

I find high and flowery words. “Goofy” thoughts. Tear-smeared pages.

I find steno pages taped to three-holed 8-1/2 by 11 pages, and I find pages from my 5-1/2 by 8 planner.

I find a shift of writing from right slant to vertical back to right slant.

Some pages neat. Some pages total scribble.

And I know, because I remember, some pages are missing.

The pages I have are filled with exuberant joy and crushing sorrow poured from the heart.

And some are all prissy and proper Christianese.

I remember times when I could not write or pray. When I could only fall on my knees and sob. When I would walk through my daughter’s room and lay hands on the door, the wall, the furniture, her radio.

I remember screaming at God for not answering prayers, for not protecting her, for not slamming doors to pain.

I remember sitting in the car and telling my husband that I could not pray one more prayer, that I was tired, oh so tired, and I just wanted it all to end.

I wanted me to end.

I remember prayers scribbled in bound notebooks, since thrown away for fear someone would see and hurt.

Since then, I’ve journaled, stopped, started, tossed.

Last week I could not pray. Oh, I think I may have offered a before-meal blessing, but for the most part there was this ache, this yearning, this groaning, in a place where His presence pressed. And I could hardly speak of Him without tears.

But it was all good, very good.

And I’ve been thinking.

Maybe it’s time to start a new journal.

An honest journal.

With bound pages not so easily destroyed.

Where I can find my soul before I die.

And where, maybe, in the finding, in the reading, someone else can find theirs.




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Comments

  1. HisFireFly says

    October 7, 2011 at 11:55 am

    Yes! Begin the new journal. Listen to His words. Share them with your heart and with the rest of us!

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:14 pm

      You’re such an encouragement, my friend.

  2. Lyla Lindquist says

    October 7, 2011 at 11:59 am

    There is much this makes me want to say, at the same time it makes me want to hush.

    I’m going with the hush.

    Beautiful, Sandy. Truly.

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:07 pm

      I love that now I can hear the voices behind the written. Even in the hush.

  3. Nancy says

    October 7, 2011 at 1:41 pm

    Maybe every time you find yourself writing prissy, proper Christianese you could fine yourself a dollar. And start saving for next year’s retreat. Cause there’s prayer in your words, sweet friend.

    I, too, have walked through bedrooms, laying on hands as prayer. I think that’s a really good kind.

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:08 pm

      Oh, good one, Nancy! Shall I fine myself double or triple when I spill the ugly?

  4. S. Etole says

    October 7, 2011 at 2:17 pm

    This is so very good … going with the hush above.

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:15 pm

      I’m hushed by the response.

  5. Brandee says

    October 7, 2011 at 2:46 pm

    I’ve never been successful at journaling of the traditional sort: too lonely! Also, I understand the uncertainty of what to do with certain words (mine and others’) after they’ve been written. I threw away a box of old letters just last week. It nearly broke my heart to do it, but I had to do it.

    As a last thought: don’t you think it’s a fine line we tread between not-honest-enough and too-honest?

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:02 pm

      I sometimes feel constrained, Brandee, for fear of hurting someone with my too-honest thoughts. Sometimes my writing becomes a vent–something maybe only God and I should read. 😉

  6. Jeanne Damoff says

    October 7, 2011 at 2:51 pm

    I love your heart and your raw honesty in this piece. “Where I can find my soul before I die.” That line, and then the hope to shed light on another’s path. So lovely. Thank you.

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:09 pm

      Thank you, Jeanne. You always bless me when you swing by. xoxo

  7. Deidra says

    October 7, 2011 at 2:54 pm

    My parents rewrote that prayer when they taught it to me. Here’s their version:
    “Now I lay me down to sleep,
    I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
    Guide me through the starry night
    And wake me when the sun shines bright.”
    I think it was their way of trying to write the story they wanted for me. And for them. I wonder if the whole dying before I wake part scared them…so they just decided to toss it.

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:13 pm

      I taught it to my kids as “Angels guard me through the night, and wake me in the morning light.” I think that was what one of those Precious Moments angels recited when we wound her up.

  8. Megan Willome says

    October 7, 2011 at 3:27 pm

    If this is a taste of what’s to come, bring it!

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:09 pm

      🙂

  9. Sheila Lagrand says

    October 7, 2011 at 4:19 pm

    This has undone me.

    Sandy, I think in your honesty here, you’ve peeled something back that I’ve been hiding from. Or under.

    I suppose now I need to think about this.

    Thank you.

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:02 pm

      Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Love you, Sheila.

      • Sheila says

        October 8, 2011 at 11:04 pm

        It’s a hard thing.

        Love you, too.

        • Sandra says

          October 8, 2011 at 11:09 pm

          Hard can be good . . .

          • Sheila says

            October 8, 2011 at 11:37 pm

            You touched on the hard thing in your comment about the lost years….when I fled in 2006, I left everything behind…photos, writing, 40 linear feet of books, my musical instruments….

            It’s a little lonely to be 52 and have only 5 years of my history.

          • Sandra says

            October 9, 2011 at 12:33 am

            I have no words. But I wish I could reach through this screen and hug you tight. Looking around at all my “stuff” and loosening my fingers a little more. xoxo

          • Sheila says

            October 9, 2011 at 12:43 am

            Hugging you right back.

            I won’t say more, this isn’t the place, but I was not a victim. I chose my path.

            And I thank God for His redeeming grace.

  10. Linda says

    October 7, 2011 at 8:28 pm

    This is so real Sandy – so poignant. I can see so much of my own journey in your words. Your writing is so powerful. I hope you’ll start that new Journal.

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:18 pm

      I’m kind of sad about the lost years. Some of those were pages I threw away. Maybe some things should stay lost. Yes, I’m going to start again. Of course, a blog kind of acts like one, right?

  11. diana says

    October 8, 2011 at 1:00 am

    Ah, ah, ah. Yes. This. So real, so raw, so true. Thank you. I’m joining the hush now… (but more, please – and yes to that journal!)

    • Sandra says

      October 8, 2011 at 11:19 pm

      Thank you so much, Diana. You are such a treasure.

  12. Katie says

    October 9, 2011 at 11:38 pm

    Oh this so real. I am so thankful you shared your journey with us. God wants our raw and honest heart with his always.

  13. Faith Barista Bonnie says

    October 10, 2011 at 2:41 pm

    Beautiful, sharing with us a prayer journal entry right here on the blog too, wouldn’t you say, Sandy? 🙂 I wish I went to the High Calling Retreat — I saw your entry and wish I was there to hug you and hike and enjoy you LIVE. Someday…

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