My mom often laughed that so many people were praying that it must have gotten so loud in Heaven that they said “I guess we better go check on this Jessica girl.” It obviously helped, because after two massive hemorrhaged brain aneurysms, a 2-week coma, and my intracranial pressure spiking into the sixties (another thing the doctors told my family people don’t survive), I managed to not only survive but keep the twisted personality and sick sense of humor my loved ones had always known. My habit of flipping off nurses ensured them of that much.
The power of prayer allowed my loved ones to get to keep the “real me,” and I have used the gift of life given me to pray for others whenever possible. I know prayer’s true power, and will continue to offer it to others who are in need of their own divine help. Right now, one of my best friends from my freshman year in high school could use all the prayers he can get. You may have heard of the mass shooting that occurred here in west Houston recently. The man who bravely got his gun (which he was licensed to carry) and held off the shooter, saving other lives and being hit three times in the process, was my very good friend in high school. We stopped hanging out when I began dating someone who wasn’t too keen on me having a male best friend, even though he was always more of a big brother to me than anything. Anyway, having been shot three times – once in the shoulder, and breaking each leg - he now faces multiple surgeries, medical bills, lots of rehabilitation, and an uncertain future. Not only do I ask for prayers for Byron, but also for his beautiful wife, as she stands strong by her husband, and for their young son. They all have a long healing process ahead, but I know his kind, always jovial heart and God’s love will see them through this.