A man named Jake

This is another post I wrote over a year ago. I don't know why I never posted it, but you need to read about Jake. People like Jake make the world a better place.

There used to be this man named Jake. My mom knew him from the tiny mill town in South Carolina where she grew up. As a little girl, she looked up to his teenage daughters. She actually named her dog after his daughter Patsy. (It was a chihuahua. Yes, a chihuahua named Patsy.) That's about the nicest thing a little girl can do for the teenager she idolizes. One day, about five months ago, Jake's daughter (not Patsy) went to visit Jake in the hospital. When she got to his door she stopped in her tracks. Jake was on his knees. Praying. Praying out loud. Praying something along the lines of "God, I have this friend Ray. His daughter Jan has a daughter with cancer. I want you to heal her." He was praying. On his knees. Out loud. For me.
Praying for me to be healed while his own body was being consumed by cancer.

Not long after this, Jake died. I thank God for Jake. He put his own needs aside to pray for me. That's just about as selfless as it gets--to put someone else's health needs over yours when you are dying. I just hope there is a little bit of Jake inside of me, that I might consider others before myself.

I'm thankful for everyone who has prayed for me. If you've uttered even one little prayer on my behalf, thank you. I'm grateful for you.