Prayer Chain

At times I act well under pressure, able to focus my energies and carve out a sense of direction. Yet, at other times, when moments of crisis hit, I find I can’t quite manage. Last week was one of those times. And while I fell short in strength and faith, I was surrounded by some of the most deeply grounded people who showed me the way.

Tuesday morning began with a frightening phone call, the father of one of my co-workers calling to say that his son, David, had been in a car accident and was on his way to the hospital. Within moments, the two other psychologists I work with left the office for the hospital, and I was left in the room by myself with a mess of empty desks, including David’s.

My mind was swarming with thoughts and images. What had happened? Someone said he was unconscious. Another said the driver of the car had been killed in the crash.

Unable to sit still with every scenario flashing through my brain, I found myself anxiously pacing the small room and pausing at David’s desk. I think I prayed out loud and said, '' Please G-d, don’t let him die.''

Just as I sat back down at my desk, one of the pastors passed the doorway instructing everyone to meet in the conference room downstairs. I knew what this meant. A prayer vigil.

This is what Paz y Esperanza does when no on else knows what to do. And when no one knows what to do, we look to G-d for direction.

We met in the conference room, a handful of people present, and laid it all out on the table. We prayed for David’s life, for one of the layers who was hospitalized with flu symptoms and for one of the most serious sexual abuse cases, which is on the verge of a verdict.

A few hours later, we met again, this time the entire office, to unload the burdens of hopelessness, stress and exhaustion. We learned that David had regained consciousness, suffered a concussion, broke his nose and dislocated his shoulder bone. The driver was killed and it was and is a miracle that David was spared.

The legal office had reached its edge with the culmination of two critical cases, one of the lawyers out of commission with health problems and the director of the area in tears admitting to us all that she can barely handle it alone.

As I watched her trembling I remarked how devoted this team is to the wellbeing of its members. No one needs to hide behind their desk with the door closed to cry alone when it gets too hard.

At the national level, Peru is also in crisis, dealing with one of the most violent disputes since the terrorism of the 80’s and 90’s. This time it is over indigenous landowner rights.

As the Peruvian government tries to open territory in the north for oil, mining and lumber, indigenous communities are blocking road ways in order to protect their land. The local protests had been peaceful for two months, until this week when both local townspeople and national police were killed in the dispute.

It is obvious that Paz y Esperanza is not just concerned with issues in its own region in Huánuco. There is deep distress when it comes to both local family issues and national conflicts, which so often end in violence.

After words had been shared, my host father, a pastor, stood to draw us together in prayer. I stood next to him and he took my hand. What was previously an outpouring of human anxiety, confusion and desperation became a petition to G-d, that in our feebleness, G-d may intervene.

The prayer was a mantra, pulling in every one of our personal pleas, some unspoken, others whispered simultaneously around the circle. At times the prayer was loud and bellowing and I could feel a rush of energy through my host father’s hand. But as he closed the oration, he paused and then spoke softly in a tear-filled voice. Amen.

At my church at home, we often pass prayers through a "prayer chain," a list of phone numbers and emails where one person prays and then passes the request along. It is a comforting way to release one’s personal grief and lift it beyond our limited understanding.

I image the prayer floating along, hand to hand, heart to heart, building strength as it goes along, all the while speaking to G-d in a myriad of voices.

During this particularly difficult day, I imagined something similar. And just as the prayers moved along in succession, I too felt as if I was being passed along the chain.

The entire morning was a string of prayers, first alone at my desk, then a small group downstairs, and again with the entire office led by my host father. At each instant I felt I was swept up by a moving current bringing me to calmer water.

As I left the office to walk home, my host father swung by and we drove home on his motorcycle. We entered the kitchen, sat down for lunch, and I was caught in prayer once again, among the rest of my host family.

Like a giant safety net set below my feet or two hands placed against my back, prayer met me at every possible crossway on a day when I just couldn’t cope.