A Running Prayer List

Eugene was a faithful member of All Saints' Episcopal Church in Birmingham, Alabama where I used to attend about a decade ago. One word described him: cantankerous. He was a lawyer who knew how to debate, an Episcopalian who knew how to pray, an EfM (Education for Ministry) student who knew how to learn, and someone who faced and died from esophageal cancer.

Every year on the Feast of All Saints (Nov. 1), I remember him. He'd probably laugh about that as I am sure he didn't consider himself a saint; few do. Saints' lives teach us all, by example, how to live. And in Eugene's case, how to die.


After becoming an Episcopalian myself in 1999, Eugene was the first Episcopalian I knew who died. Prior to his death, he invited me to his house and gave me a very special gift: a cross (pictured at the right) that had been a significant artifact on his journey of faith. Another gift he gave was showing me what it meant to die well. He was very intentional about reconciling with his enemies and saying good-bye to his friends.

Although All Saints' day is several months a way, it is only two days before the marathon. The timing of that is fitting, I think. I started praying for people who are facing cancer during my runs, especially the long ones on Saturday. I've let people know that I am doing this and, thankfully, they've started giving me the names of people they'd like me to remember. (See the list here.) I find it to be a spiritual practice that connects me more deeply to all the saints who are facing or who have faced cancer, and to those who love them so much that they request prayers for them.

And I know on Nov. 3 as I attempt to run 26.2 miles to raise funds for the NYU Cancer Center, those who I am remembering - both the living and the dead - will be cheering me on.