Sometimes I am my friends’ answer to prayer. Most often, the prayer is for patience.
Take my friend Ellen, for instance. Ellen is a mother, a
pastor and a chaplain – I’m sure she’s prayed for patience more than once.
Some time ago, Ellen and I were to meet for lunch. Knowing
how busy she is, I made sure to leave on time. I even got to the restaurant a
few minutes early. But as I pulled into a nice, shady parking space, a thought
wandered into my mind and set up camp. Was this the right restaurant?
I reached into my purse to find my phone and check her
text. No phone.
I tried to visualize our text messages. “Fish City” – but no, I wasn’t at Fish City,
I was at Flying Fish. Where was Fish
City? Maybe I could drive over there and
look for her car.
No phone meant no map.
Oh well, the area wasn’t that big. I could probably drive
around and find it and only be a couple of minutes late.
About 10 minutes (and one helpful security guard) later, I
found Fish City, parked in the only spot available and dashed in. No
Ellen. I drank a glass of water,
watching the door, pleased that even with my mistake I had beat her to the
restaurant.
After another 10 minutes and still no Ellen, I began
to second-think my second-thought.
The helpful server loaned me her phone and I called my
son. “Please find my phone in my room...” I
asked, and could almost see him wince at the thought of finding anything in my
room, “and see where I’m supposed to be.” As he walked across the house, the sound of
my ringing cell phone got louder and louder.
It was Ellen.
My patient son held a phone to each ear and relayed messages
back and forth, and I learned that Ellen was patiently waiting for me - back at Flying
Fish.
This scenario came to mind as I considered our current
political drama and the atmosphere of commotion du jour. It’s so easy to lose
sight of each other in the midst of the turmoil.
We think we’re connecting here, while our friend patiently
waits to connect there. We convince
ourselves we know what they feel. They think we do, too. And we’re both
wrong. I don’t know about you, but all
too often, I find myself operating on assumptions when what I really need to do
is get up, go meet my friend wherever they are, and sit down together. And if I find that I'm the answer to their prayer for
patience or understanding, it is a humbling thought but comforting even so.
The other day, my calendar reminded me that I was to lunch
with my friend Maria. Determined (as I always am) to be on time (which I’m
often not), I got up from my desk a full half-hour before necessary. I put on clothes that say, “I may work at
home but I’m still a professional”. I even put on make-up. A few minutes before
it was time to leave, I checked my email to be sure of the restaurant. There was no email. I sent a text. Nothing.
Finally, I called her office.
And the minute she answered, I remembered – we’d changed the
date for lunch. At my request.
Sometimes I’m just the reason my friends pray.
