At the marriage retreat this weekend, Rich and I dealt with some spiritual warfare in the form of dreams, etc. This is not at all surprising when you think about it--if we go out to "the woods" to focus on our marriage, it's not going to make Satan happy. Right? Right.
Anyway, in the middle of the night, I poked Richard and said, "Can you pray with me?" He, of course, obliged and I went to sleep quickly feeling better.
This morning I said, "Thanks for praying with me last night. It helped a lot."
Rich said, "I prayed with you?"
At least he was willing to help in the moment.