When I first moved to Shelby in my 20's, I had a few brief conversations with one of my neighbors, Mrs. Barnum. (Yes, like the circus, but then again, not, as she explained.) One simple statement she made has stayed with me all these years. How likely is that? I think it made a lasting impression because she said it in passing, not trying to make a big point. It may have stuck because she was mentioning something she did, not something she believed or something she was trying to convince me to believe. Or maybe it's because I thought she had chosen a really improbable challenge and I felt a little sorry for her. Mrs. Barnum said, "Every day I walk to church and pray for an end to the Vietnam War." 

She was elderly. She took care of her elderly husband. My only mental picture is seeing the two of them seated on lawn chairs under a shade tree near their front stoop from which they could see traffic on two intersecting streets. And occasionally chat with passersby. Like me. 

Even now, I have to break up that simple sentence in order to take it in fully. Every day? No breaks for inclement weather? No excused absence for an achey back? I couldn't imagine her walking half a mile to the Catholic church every morning. Perhaps I heard that wrong. Perhaps someone picked her up. But she could have accomplished the same thing while sitting on her sofa with a cup of tea, right? Pray? I understood praying. I prayed, although my prayers were probably accompanied by fewer candles and I'm very sure they encompassed a much smaller radius. Prayers for the end of the Vietnam War? Honestly? That might not seem far fetched today, but it startled me. I'd come from MSU where demonstrators were protesting. I saw pictures of the war zone headlining the TV evening newscasts. And in between those two impressions, in the center, was an elderly woman who straightened herself out to her full height and put considerable effort behind her concern with no guarantees, no end in sight. 

Since then, I've led bible studies on prayer, I've organized prayer chains, I've asked for prayers. I've been to seminary. I've sat in small circles and prayed sincerely and deeply. Yet, my image of faithful prayer is still that soft-spoken, persistent, unassuming, powerless woman with a name like a circus, but then again, not at all like the circus we all live in. 

Prayers for peace this morning.