Lunch in a box.
[Risks No. 386 & 387] While eating high-class Trader Joe's Pad Thai from a box I couldn't help but notice an older woman across the street who was walking with notable difficulty. I had watched her walk north (away from our office) and contemplated chasing her down. Within minutes, I noticed her walking back toward us. The thought instantly gripped me, "what would Jesus do right now?" Would He even be eating Pad Thai? Would He eat on or would He meet the need? The argument in my head in favor of staying behind my desk was all but superficial. I quickly got up and walked briskly until I was right alongside her. "Excuse me, mam. I couldn't help but notice your difficulty walking and I wondered if I could pray for you?" She agreed and I discovered that sciatica (nerve issue causing pain/tingling in the leg) was the culprit. Her name was Josie. Josie was pure sweetheart and reminded me of the kind of grandmother you'd love to be around, the kind that can laugh and cook. We prayed and I couldn't help but notice that her right eye was mostly clouded over. I asked if I could pray over her eye. Again, she agreed. I welcomed the Holy Spirit and commanded her eye to see again and her body to regain all the strength it needed. She thanked me, but specifically, she thanked me for my faith. That came as a bit of a shock. I'm not sure I've ever been thanked for my faith, nor do I typically walk around thinking I have much of it.
On the way back to my office box/lunch, I ran into Ray - smiling and doing a wheelie on his motorized wheelchair. I introduced myself and asked him how his day was going. Considering the fact that he was strapped to a wheelchair, I was surprised that he was joyful as he was. Today was a good day, he felt great and was able to get outside. I asked how I could pray for him and he looked at me and said, "I have Him." He's a wonderful friend, isn't He? "Yes He is. Sometimes my only friend." I asked if I could pray healing over his body. He agreed. I prayed. He smiled again, thanked me and said, "that was a good one!"
Minutes later I was back at my desk. I sat down and wept. My prayer has been, "God, please do whatever it takes to make me more like Jesus." I wept because I felt God saying, "I'm answering your prayer to be more like My Son." Two beautiful people, two prayers from the heart. Neither were healed on the spot; both were encouraged and strengthened. So was I.