Hope Thrives Through the Aunties’ Prayers

woman prayingAs I closed my prayer journal, I thought once again about my nieces and nephews. These dear ones were the focus of my Sabbath prayers – the next generation that will love justice, show mercy and live as Kingdom-bearers in our world.

Years ago, I determined to pray them through school decisions, career changes and life-long relationships. Now I wonder how my prayers protected them or spurred them to consider a different path, a more focused decision. No matter. I will love them and root for them forever.

And what about the intercessions of my aunties? Judging from the fruit of their lives, I would bet they also kept prayer lists and on those lists, somewhere – my name appears.


It is because of their influence that I write and serve and minister. The glorious result of their example helped frame me as they modeled how to become strong and authentic women.


Most of them now live in eternal glory, yet the memories I carry of them are as distinct as my own reflection in the bedroom mirror.

Mary: the auntie who loved me even when I could not love myself. She never saw the zits, the perm-fried hair or the thunder thighs that mortified me throughout adolescence and high school. Mary just loved me and every time she saw me, I knew she was genuinely glad to see me. How I would love to feel her arms around me again!

Lynda: the teacher auntie who expressed interest in every one of my projects, supported my ministries and showed up, smiling, whenever I sang a solo or gave a speech. I felt important in her presence and knew she cared for me. I would bet, even now, she is checking with God about my activities.

Alma Dee: a busy mother of five, who still found time to spend hours with me, listening to my recitations of Bible verses and encouraging me to study the truth of God’s word. She helped me build a foundation that I later shared with my Bible students and then morphed into the personality of Reverend G.

Ethel: the gracious and kindly auntie who surpassed Martha Stewart in hospitality and the making of home. Her beautiful house was immaculate, her décor creative while her face always carried the shine of God’s love. Even now, this still-living auntie, reflects the presence of God and wears a forever smile, probably knowing she will see Him in person someday soon.

Adina: the widowed auntie who raised her children alone and achieved a master’s degree when it was unusual for women to pursue the higher levels of education. She challenged me to pursue my dreams. Because she persevered, I could, too.

Lucille: the glamourous auntie whose red lipstick shocked and amazed me. I wanted to try that shade – just once. It was at her memorial service that I learned about the depth of her faith and wondered if she, too, had prayed for me.

These aunties are just some of the relatives whom I respected and loved. They taught me the values I still espouse and shared their faith as generously as they gave kisses on the cheek.

Without these aunties and their prayers, I might have chosen another path. I have lived the results of my aunties’ prayers. So I now pass on that treasure for the younger ones who follow me.

Who prayed for you? What difference did those prayers make in your life?

©2015 RJ Thesman – Author of the Reverend G books http://www.crossrivermedia.com/portfolio/1624/gallery/fiction/

Excerpt from “Intermission for Reverend G”

Intermission Rev G Cover“I’d like to see your mother gain a little weight. She’s a bit below the charts.” Jacob sat beside me in one of the chairs in Doc’s old office while the new doctor in town flipped through my chart and made a notation.

I watched him scribble whatever orders or medicines he thought might improve my health. His gorgeous dark skin contrasted totally with his white lab coat. Perfect spoken English, obviously from India.

I glanced at his certificate on the wall, framed in dark mahogany; “On the recommendation of the faculty of the Harvard School of Medicine, the trustees have conferred on Kumar Anjee the degree of Doctor of Medicine.”

Jacob crossed his legs and reached for my hand. “Doctor Anjee, my mother eats a healthy diet and exercises regularly. She walks every day. We were wondering if perhaps any new drugs or supplements might help with the memory loss.”

Doctor Anjee closed my chart and leaned forward to address Jacob. “That is good. Walking is the best possible exercise, but of course you know – all indications are that the brain continues to wither, especially the temporal lobes.”

Wither. What a disgusting word! Old withering Reverend G. Withering like a rotten tomato on the vine, left too long in the Kansas sun. Withering brain cells drying up and disappearing into the sunset of life. Withering old lady with dried up temporal lobes.

I can’t stand it, God. I’m withering like a plum that morphs into a prune. Is there a Bible verse that talks about withering? How am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to age gracefully if I’m withering? And why won’t this doctor look at me? Doc Sanders never treated me like this.

The doctor continued, “You also might begin to notice another type of regression, almost a personality shift. Your mother may exhibit more of the behavioral characteristics of an adolescent; such as arguing, becoming more interested in childish things, maybe even a desire for toys.”

Great! Not only was my brain withering but I also lived in a time warp. What happens next? Zits?

My stomach growled, and Doctor Anjee glanced at me. Must have heard the rumbling. He made another notation in my chart. Probably something like “Withering old lady has a loud stomach especially when sitting in office chair.”

“Can you tell me your name and your birth date?” he asked without looking up.

“Yes.” Idiot man. Of course I could tell him my name and my birth date. I just chose not to.

Jacob laughed. “Well, sir, she did answer your question.”

Not even a snicker from the doctor. He made a checkmark on my chart then asked, “What day is this?”

I was ready for this one. I practiced it all morning, because I knew the doctor always asked that question. “It’s the day after yesterday and the day before tomorrow.” So there, big shot doctor who never looks at his withering patients.

©2014 RJ Thesman – “Intermission for Reverend G” – http://amzn.to/1l4oGoo