The Power of Prayer

Good evening, Ms J. Chilly out there, eh?

I woke this morning to the first real snowfall of the season here in little Mimico. It wasn't quite enough to cover the blades of grass, standing stiff and frozen in the early morning dark, but it gave the world outside my window a fresh and clean appearance. Winter has arrived.

I walked over to the church this morning at 8:30 and spent a few hours renovating a room there. I worked with two other men. We dismantled an old closet and painted the room. Tomorrow, we'll build some shelves. The plan is to use the room for storage.

I've been praying lately, Ms J, but I never know what to pray for. I know that sounds silly, but I just don't know what, precisely, to ask for. I don't know what I need.

A job.

Well, that's obvious, isn't it? But God's supposed to be omniscient. Surely He knows that. He must know what I need, perhaps better than I do. So here's what I asked for, Ms J. I asked for help. And I asked for the awareness to recognise it when it arrives.

On Monday morning, I accepted an invitation to a friend's house for coffee. We chatted until noon then we went out for fish and chips. Colin paid. It was a brilliant way to spend the day.

This morning at church, as I took an armload of old boards outside for the trash, I saw Joan. Remember Joan, Ms J? She drove me faithfully to my physiotherapy sessions when my leg was broken last year. Joan goes to my church. She's a sweet lady. Sweet. She lowered the window of her car and called to me.

"Do you like chili, Dale?"

I told her I did.

"Why don't you come over to my house for lunch on Friday? We'll have some chili and then maybe you can help me put up my Christmas tree."

I've been looking for things to do, Ms J. I've been trying not to sit alone here at home and obsess about my troubles. And I have been feeling decidedly "Grinchy" over Christmas. I told her thanks and accepted her offer.

This is help. This is the form help arrived in today. Yesterday, too. My prayers were answered.

Prayer. Cool! Sometimes, Ms Journal, it really works.

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