By Sandra Bost
My friend went to Heaven last week.
She was a pillar in the sweet little church we joined back in 2014.
She was the heart of the fellowship—a beloved matriarch whose presence felt like a quilt stitched from decades of stories and second chances. Eclectic in every sense, she was a collector of treasures others might call trinkets, each piece held with the quiet conviction that someday, somehow, it would serve a purpose. Nothing was ever wasted in her world; everything had potential–just like the people she loved.
Life had not been gentle with her. Yet, she refused to let bitterness take root. Instead, she poured herself into the one place that never turned her away—her church–her Grace place. There, she had value. She was needed. She became the maker of coffee, the keeper of the kitchen, and the decorator behind every celebration. Her hands, though worn, brought charm to every bridal or baby shower she helped host.
She was cherished by all who knew her. Her hugs were a refuge, and her faith was a steady flame. Even as illness dimmed her strength, the memory of her devotion lingered like the aroma of Sunday coffee. And oh, how she loved those Sundays—especially the ritual of Sunday lunch at the local Mexican restaurant with her favorite friends.
She was a woman of hope–a testament that brokenness can bloom into grace. In her story, hardship was not the final word—love was. And that love, stitched into every act of service and every shared meal, will outlast the years.
What will not outlast the years are her daily prayers–except the ones that God continues to answer.
Even as recently as four weeks ago, when dear friends picked her up from the nursing home and brought her to church, she asked me how school was going and told me she had been praying for me. She never failed to ask about my classes, or tell me that she had entreated Jesus on my behalf.
Her life of prayer reminds us of what Psalm 50:13-15 teaches–that God doesn’t delight in sacrifices of food or ritual, but in hearts that call on Him and trust Him. When we pray, we give Him the gift He desires most: our dependence and our praise.
That’s why my friend’s example matters so much. She understood that prayer honors God and brings Him joy. This truth is beautifully captured in a devotion another friend shared with me by John Piper, reflecting on this very passage. In “The Aroma of God’s Favorite Food,” Piper expounds upon the idea that God “…satisfies His appetite for joy…by magnifying the glory of His riches.” He accomplishes this, according to Piper, by “filling up the deficiencies of people who pray.”
God’s greatest joy comes when He answers our prayers because it shows off His glory. Did you catch that? Let me say it again, because it’s big: God is happiest when He answers your prayers. Why? Because every answer is like a neon sign flashing, “Look how amazing I am!”
This defies logic and reasoning. Our human “performance-based conditioning” leads us to believe that God is most pleased with our good deeds, our perfect church attendance, our fancy words when we pray–you get the picture. But, Psalm 50:15 suggests that when we simply ask and He gets to show off His goodness–THAT’s His joy!
At Christmas, we celebrate the greatest Gift ever given–Jesus. But what can we give God for His “birthday”? Not gold or silver, bulls or goats. This year, we can bring Him something far more precious–our prayers.
Everytime we intercede for others, thank Him, repent of our sins, or simply talk to Him–we’re giving Him a gift that honors Him and makes His heart glad.
So, this Christmas, let’s follow my friend’s example. Let’s pray without ceasing–for our families, our communities, and the world. Let’s make prayer our gift to God, because when we do, we join in the Joy of Heaven and reflect the Love of Christ. And, we give God, as Piper proposes, “His special feast!”
Jesus, thank you for the life and example of my sweet friend. Thank you for her fervent, faithful prayers. Teach us to honor You with the gift You desire most–our prayers. Help us to give You our hearts in trust and dependence. May our prayers bring You joy as You make Yourself Glorious!
Gloria in excelsis Deo!
