Thursday, August 6, 2015

Dear God,

I had to say goodbye to my sick friend.  Feeling sad I walked down the hospital hall and stepped into the elevator.  Suddenly, the words to Sweet Hour of Prayer began to play in my mind so I hummed along.  When the elevator stopped on the third flour and the door opened, I heard another song being hummed.  As the little elderly African American woman stepped inside, I asked her if she had been humming a song.  She said, “Yes, Have Thine Own Way.”  I responded back, “I was humming Sweet Hour of Prayer.”  She went on, “Have thine own way, Lord, have thine own way; thou art the potter, I am the clay.”  I joined in.  “Mold me and make me after thy will while I am waiting yielded and still.”  We smiled at one another as the door opened and we departed, me humming the old hymn.

Lord God,

thank you

for chance encounters

that heal

and help.

Thank you

for your song

that stretches us

to move

from where

we are

to where

you are.

Thank you

for your

living presence

in elevators

and hospital rooms. 

Love always, Andrea