It’s been an exhausting week.

I heard disturbing medical terms. Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome. Ablation. Panic attack. Cardiologist. Blood clots. Life-threatening. CT scan. Tumors. Biopsy. Oncologist. Emergency Room. Cancer.

The terms whirled unabated in my mind then settled with a thud. Both my son and my sister were driven to emergency rooms. One in Wisconsin and one in Tennessee. I texted my group of praying moms. They texted back. I wasn’t the only one burdened with medical complications of family members. One friend has a dad in the hospital. Another friend’s husband has cancer. Texts pinged all day.

One friend texted, “We will be holding up your arms when you get too tired.” She referred to a story in the Bible. (See Exodus 18:8-13.)

Moses was in the Promise Land. The Israelites prepared to fight their enemies the Amalekites. Moses, Hur, and Aaron climbed to the top of the hill while Joshua led the Israelites into battle. Whenever Moses raised his staff, the Israelites were victorious. When his hands drooped, the Amalekites prevailed. As the battle prolonged, Moses’ hands grew heavier. Hur and Aaron placed a stone under him and he sat down on it. Then Hur and Aaron supported his hands, one on each side, so that Moses’ hands remained steady until night. Joshua and his army defeated the Amalekites.

I felt like Moses last week. As information arrived from both directions, I knew I needed prayer support. My prayer warriors stepped up and “held up my hands” just as they did for the other two moms. They strengthened me through their prayers. Whenever I sent an update, another thread of texts arrived. “Praying for you.”  Heart and praying hand emoji filled my screen. Who would have thought a smiling emoji could mean so much?

My church family was no different. They showed up in person, called on the phone, and sent texts to my son. His Life Group drove 30 minutes to sit with him on his birthday. Another friend sat with him in the Emergency Room. Another called while he was in the ER. Our pastor prayed for my son while in the hospital then drove to his house and remained with him after a panic attack.

Some days I’m a mighty prayer warrior. But other times like last week, I was dog-tired and needed others to lift up me and my family. I needed them to speak truth to my son. I needed them to listen while I verbalized my runaway emotions. I needed to let others take care of me and quit pretending I had it all together when the opposite was true.

These past weeks only confirmed what I already knew—we need community. Good, honest, Godly community. We need people we can run to when life veers off the tracks. We need friends who will call or show up unannounced. In the church, we call this community the Body of Christ, where the people are the hands and feet of Jesus. I hope you will find a group of believers who will love you at your best and your worst and in the highs and the lows of life.

My son’s heart procedure is Tuesday, October 15. My sister was diagnosed with rare and aggressive gallbladder cancer. I covet your prayers.

How can I pray for you?