But, yesterday, I wrote a note to someone in my church who always makes me feel better. I felt a little silly, writing it, but I did it, anyway: I felt like I was supposed to. I shared how much he ministers to me just in being himself. I thanked him for caring for me: not with words of advice, but merely in looking happy, always, to see me.
This morning, the same person showed up on my front porch. He said Someone had sent him to pray with me. I invited him in, and he held my hands and prayed a beautiful prayer over me.
When he finished, I asked: "You didn't get my note, already, did you?" He looked confused, and, no, of course he hadn't. I just mailed it yesterday; the mail hasn't run, yet, today; and--even within the county--a stamp can't buy same-day delivery.
"I've been feeling like I should come for awhile, now," he said, "and, usually, I ignore the feeling, but I didn't feel like I could, this time."
"Well, you're going to get a note," I said, "and when you do, you're going to wonder how I did that."
He laughed and went on his way, leaving me to marvel at what God has done, the last couple of days, in asking something of both my friend and me, also in rewarding our obedience by proving: the little voice we heard really was His voice. I know He's drawing each of us closer to Himself, and I feel a little braver, suddenly. He's right here; wherever I go, He goes with me.
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