My one-legged diabetic uncle is in the hospital. He's in quite bad shape-- bleeding ulcers in his stomach. They won't know how bad it is until sometime later today. I spoke with one of his daughters, my cousin, to ask the obligatory (though no less heartfelt) "Can I do anything?" Of course I can't. So I told her I'd pray for them.

Me. Pray for them. "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much," but what about my prayers? They are a joke. I think of the bit from West Wing when the President's secretary (Lily Tomlin) tells the First Lady (Stockard Channing) that she had been praying for the safe return of the First Lady's younger daughter from the hands of terrorists. "Of course," she adds, "I'm not very religious. So there's some chance my prayers might be taken as an affront. So if God is a vengeful God, I might have actually done more harm than good."

I know exactly how she feels.

"Which of course," says my Inner Presbyterian, "is why we pray in the name of Jesus. His is the righteousness that lets us approach God. His is the intercession that makes our prayers effectual." But what if your life makes it clear that you have your doubts about Jesus? May I still hope that He will intercede for me with the Father? Am I one of those who says "Lord, Lord" to no avail?

So let me just ask: would somebody out there who's on better terms with Jesus than me please pray for my uncle? His name is Chuck. He has a wife (my father's sister) and three grown daughters. He's a bright, lively man, and when I talked to him the day before yesterday he was looking forward to his youngest daughter's wedding in March. Please pray that he will live to see it, and recover to enjoy it. Thanks.