prayer for a belly

 Zinni’s little five-year-old stomach has been giving her a lot of trouble lately. It’s given her belly-aches off and on for nearly two years now, but they’ve been suddenly more frequent and more intense lately. We’ve tried going off different allergens, giving different supplements, asking different doctors, and so far haven’t found an answer. 

This week, she lay in our living room armchair, waiting for her bellyache to pass while I cleaned the kitchen nearby. She asked me a question, but I didn’t make it out the first time, and asked her to repeat it. 

“Can Jesus help my belly?” 

I was taken off guard. My bible-scholar progressive-Christian mind raced through everything I thought and felt. I remembered time after time hands had been laid on my neck, praying for healing, to no avail. I remembered my friend who had laid in the ICU for a week while we all prayed, only to lose him. I remembered all I’d studied about prayer, both before and after my faith had completely reshaped itself. As it stands, I never really pray anymore. I never really ask for anything. I’m not really sure anyone’s listening or going to answer, and I’m not sure it would be fair if they did. 

But none of it mattered in the face of that question. 

In a split second, I weighed whether or not to explain to her that we aren’t sure if miracles really happen, that Jesus was an itinerant rabbi and not a genie, or that our bodies work a certain way and we can find physical solutions. Of course, I didn’t. Before I knew what I should say, I said, 

“Let’s ask him.” 

So I scooped her up in my lap, and together on the armchair, I laid my hand on her belly as if I were back in that Pentecostal church where I wasn’t healed. I laid it anyway. And I prayed for the first time in a long, long time, a wobbly and unorthodox prayer. “Jesus, if you can help Zinni’s belly feel better, we would really like that. Thank you. Amen.”

And that was all. 

As we went about our day, I reflected on the strangeness of the moment, both uncomfortable and yet beautiful. How it felt to lead her in her small faith, even while I have so little of my own.

No miracle happened for her belly, we’re still trying things. 

But maybe some would say the miracle was something else.