Ways to bless people are as varied and numerous as the people. I was recently encouraged to be a blessing by praying for and with people I encounter in an ordinary day. The following are scenes from such days.
Scene 1
I was on my way that evening to a class at church when I noticed the highway patrolman I’d just met on the road suddenly do a U-turn and drive up behind me with his lights flashing.
This was a clue that perhaps I’d been speeding.
The very polite officer informed me how fast I was going, what the speed limit was and asked me for my license and registration. As he went back his patrol car a terrifying thought crossed my mind.
It wasn’t, Will my insurance rates go up because of this? Or, Will my husband drive by on his way home from work? But, Is this one of those situations that pastor Jay has been talking about where we should bless someone by praying for them?
First I prayed for myself, “God if you want me to do that, let there be an obvious opportunity.”
The officer returned to my open window and handed me a ticket, noted the court date and explained that I could pay the fine online. Then he said, “Do you have any questions?”
This question seemed to fit into the category of obvious opportunity.
“Well, yes I do,” I started. “You probably don’t get this much, but I believe every interaction has a purpose. Obviously one purpose here was that I be reminded to slow down. But I was wondering if there is anything I could pray for you about.”
Following a brief curious pause, he said, “Yes.”
Another pause. I began to wonder if he had more to say.
“For my safety on the job.”
Figuring it might be a safety risk to pray for him then and there, I said, “Okay, I’ll pray for you.” He said thank you and walked back to the flashing red lights.
I arrived at church a little later, without further incident, and discovered our class had been postponed at the last minute.
Maybe I’m rationalizing, but the thought occurred to me that perhaps the only reason for that trip was to have that conversation. All it cost me was a little time.
And $76.40.
Scene 2
I was at the hospital with my cousin when he was going through admission procedures on the oncology floor. Allen, a hospital volunteer, showed us to my cousin’s room while explaining his reason for volunteering on the oncology floor was due to the fact that he was a cancer survivor. When we got to the room, I asked Allen how his cancer was being managed. “So far so good,” he said, “but you never know.”
It was apparent that the cancer coming back was a concern, so I asked Allen if we could pray for him. We did, briefly asking God for health and peace of mind.
“Thank you,” he said. “That was very kind.”
Scene 3
Several months ago I was in visiting a friend in a city where our family had lived twenty years earlier and decided to drive by our old house. We’d done a lot of work restoring the 100-year-old house, and I wondered what it looked like now.
As I drove past I decided at the last moment to pull in the driveway and knock on the door, curious about who might live there now. A young-looking woman answered the door with a couple of small children peering curiously at me. I explained we’d lived there once, and she invited me in and ended up giving me a tour of the whole house! Her response was much more than I’d expected.
I learned that she was a Christian and the mother of six boys. As I was getting ready to leave I asked if I could pray for her.
“Sure,” she said. We sat on the landing of that familiar stairway—which still had not been refinished—and prayed, her two youngest boys laying hands on me like they were used to doing while praying. We exchanged email addresses, and I was on my way.
Several weeks later she emailed me asking for prayer for a difficult family situation.
Scene 4
We had just been dropped off at the concert hall and I spied a place in the lobby where my daughter-in-law and I could wait until the guys got the car parked. As we approached the bench, the woman sitting there slid over a bit as we sat down. Apparently the woman had scooted over a bit too far, because she lost her balance, fell sideways into the protruding metal frame of the window, hitting her head.
Several people rushed over to help her upright when it became obvious she was having difficulty doing that. The paramedic on the job that night came and made sure she was alright, noting she had come away from the incident primarily with a bump on her head.
As we watched this transpire I noticed she used an arm cane and after a bit of chit chat about her embarrassing moment, I asked her if she had a disability.
‘Yes, ataxia.”
This was a familiar term to me since ataxia, or the lack of muscle coordination, was one result of having Parkinson’s. So I responded, “I have Parkinson’s.”
I asked her if she was a candidate for deep brain stimulation, the pacemaker-like device that people with advanced Parkinson’s have to relieve ataxia and other debilitating hallmarks of Parkinson’s. She said she didn’t know anything about that but the only thing she had to address her illness was medication explaining that her ataxia resulted from her nerves slowly dissolving.
“So, if you live long enough, you become immobile?” I wondered out loud.
“I’ll live long enough;” she assured me. “I’m only sixty-four. It used to be that I only noticed it getting worse at my yearly check-up. But lately I can tell a difference monthly.”
Just then the guys arrived. Wishing the woman well and an enjoyable evening, I got up to go into the concert. The others had already gone past the ticket taker when it dawned on me to pray for this gal. So I told them to wait and went back to the bench.
“Can I pray for you?” I blurted.
Tearing up she said, “Yes, but I might cry.”
“Tears are good,” I assured her. “What’s your name?”
“Shirley.”
So there in the hubbub of the lobby, I took her hands, bowed and prayed about the bump on her head, her ataxia and remaining mobile for a long time. At this point I happened to look up at her and found her looking at me, with a look—I’m not sure how to describe it, I’ve rarely seen it—peace? Wonder? The slight smile perhaps indicating the blessedness of being cared about?
I concluded the prayer looking into her face with, “But God, whatever you choose for give her your peace and comfort. Amen.”
"Jesus enables us to take seriously who we are and where we are … so we needn’t be someone else or somewhere else. Jesus keeps our feet on the ground, attentive to children, in conversation with ordinary people, sharing a meal with friends and strangers, listening to the wind, observing the wildflowers, touching the sick and wounded, praying simply and unselfconsciously." –Eugene Peterson in Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places
Days later I was thinking about these encounters and couple of things occurred to me. No one said "no" to being prayed for, how simple praying for a person was--not requiring an appointment or a program, and that I just needed to be myself-with my own history and then pay attention.
Finally, it dawned on me that the reason for people's thankful reactions to being blessed and for that awesome look on Shirley's face was that, in me, they may have gotten a glimpse of Jesus. By just being my ordinary self.
Now, that's an extraordinary blessing.
