My sister Nancy was barely a toddler at the time of her illness - certainly no more than two or three years of age. I would have been about six. Dad was at work so Mom took my brother and I to the doctor's office where we played with toys in the waiting room while Mom went in with Nancy. It seemed like they were in his office for an eternity, and when they finally came out Mom was unusually somber. Nancy had a kind of an infection which turned out to be some sort of blood disease. The doctors never could determine exactly what type. 

I can remember the doctor needing to run some tests, but first they had to get her hydrated enough to give a sample, so we got to go to McDonald's for a milkshake - a rare treat indeed at that time. We remained in the city until she was able to give that sample and it was taken back to the doctor's and I guess they sent it to a lab for immediate tests. It was that serious. The test results bore out just how serious and our next stop was the hospital.

I remember staying at some friends home while my parents stayed overnight at the hospital. It was after we were put down on pallets on the floor that I began to pray, earnestly, for the first time that I can remember. It wasn't a rehearsed, "Now I lay me down to sleep" kind of prayer uttered in the presence of Mom after our bedtime Bible story. Instead, this was a very private prayer by a very scared little boy. No doubt it was one of but many, many prayers offered on my kid sister's behalf by the righteous men and women who heard of her illness.

"The prayer of the righteous man is powerful and effective." James 5:16, NIV (1978)

Though my sister was ill for many months, she did get better. She went on to grow up and become a beautiful woman. She will celebrate her birthday tomorrow. And though I am not at liberty to tell you which one, I can say that this prayer was made over half a century ago. Even with the passing of so much time, I remember that prayer because it was the first time in my life (that I can remember anyway) when I offered a prayer that was entirely focused upon someone other than myself.

We are a privileged people, are we not? Not only did God give us life, but He has offered us the opportunity to bring our requests to Him as we go through this life. I confess that I have not taken as full of advantage of this privilege as I should have. My prayers have been too infrequent at times. They have been entirely too selfish at times. For sure they have been lacking in the thanksgiving that has been due to Creator of the Universe.

But I am grateful for prayer and am trying to do better. It helps to remember that He has never let me down in the answering of my prayers, though I have often let Him down. And I always, always, always will remember the first real prayer that a six year-old boy made that was so beautifully and perfectly answered by a Father who loved my little sister even more than I did.

Do you remember your first real prayer?