Dear God,

I know you’re super busy. I know you have people bending your ear at Christmas. From every corner of the planet. Every second of the day. And I know how fussy people can be this time of year.

Everyone wants what they want, and they all want it now. And everyone wants to have it THEIR way.

But you aren’t Burger King. You do not give out paper hats to good little customers. You are not a celestial drive-thru window attendant, wearing a cute little cosmic uniform and nametag and ethereal dental braces. I think I’ve carried this metaphor as far as it will go.

So, I feel like an imposition, asking you for anything. Especially during your busy season. I know Christmas keeps you running. You have starving children in Sudan, the ongoing war in Ukraine, the Israel-Gaza mess, and that whole Cracker Barrel logo thing.

Please don’t misunderstand me, I don’t have any personal requests for Christmas. There is, however, one thing I ask. And I’m asking for a friend.

Please take care of Morgan Love.

This 20-year-old college student has spent half her life in hospitals. She is no stranger to medical environments. The UAB staffers all know her by name in the ICU.

Right now, she is in the hospital again, God. I’m sure you’ve heard.

She has pulmonary edema, her veins are leaky, and have leaked fluids into her lung bases. They’re giving her diuretics to get the fluid out. Her kidneys aren’t producing urine otherwise.

She has a spiked fever. And seizures. And her oxygen is dropping. She’s on continuous norepinephrine to keep her blood pressure stable. And, well…

Things aren’t looking fantastic right now, God.

But I’ve seen you do big things before. In fact, every time Morgan goes into the hospital, you do something incredible.

Each time she is in that hospital bed, the doctors get all frowny faced, and start saying serious things, but then people start praying.

We all pray. All the people in her tiny hometown of Locust Fork, Alabama (pop. 1,192), start praying. Her friends start praying. People she’s never even met start praying.

And guess what? Morgan always confounds her doctors and gets out of the hospital. And usually, within a few days she’s doing something crazy, such as, for example, sliding down waterslides. Or dressing up and going trick-or-treating with roommates. Or staying up all night, making friendship bracelets for people she likes.

I have one such bracelet. In fact, I am holding it right now as I write this. The bracelet has tiny yellow and white beads on an elastic band. And there are letter-beads that spell WAFFLE HOUSE.

I carry this bracelet with me every day. And in moments of silence, I look at the beads on my wrist and I think of that time Morgan and I were hiking on Red Mountain.

The terrain was rocky, and she was holding me for support. Morgan is paralyzed on one side of her body, walking can be difficult.

She was clutching my arm tightly when she said, “They said I’d never walk again, they said I might go blind, they said I’d never go hiking. But just look at what God can do.”

You heard her, Lord.

Amen.