Rapid Response

When my friend Wes treated me to breakfast at Dave’s Diner yesterday, he told me about an unusual incident that happened on his back porch Monday:

His friend, a businessman, had stopped by Wes’ house feeling down.

When Wes asked him what was the matter, his friend said that he desperately needed $2,000 before the end of this week.

“I felt as though the Holy Spirit gave me a shove in the back,” Wes said. “I said the first thing that popped into my mind—‘Lord, You know where that money is, please walk Sam to it’”.

The man’s cell phone rang.

He talked for a few minutes. Wes could only hear one side of the conversation but when he hung up, Wes asked, “Was that your money”?

“Yes, I’m supposed to go pick it up now”.

That’s not quite the way prayer works for me.

Wes also told me about an incident that happened a few years back when he was near broke. He was driving his old blue pickup to help his granddaughter with her after school homework.

He knew the little girl was having trouble with her studies and feeling frustrated but this happened right before a payday and Wes had nothing to give to cheer the kid up.

As he stopped for a red light behind a white pickup, Wes said, “It wasn’t even a real prayer. I just sort of sighed saying, ‘Lord, I sure wish I could take Sandy some flowers”.

The door of the white pickup ahead opened.

A man got out and walked to the back of his white pickup and lifted out a big bunch of marigolds. He walked back to Wes’ truck making motions for Wes to roll down his driver’s side window. He handed the flowers to Wes saying, “Here, give these to your girl”.

As the light changed, the man ran back to his own truck, jumped in, and away he drove leaving Wes dumfounded.

Spooky.

That’s not quite the way prayer works for me.

When I pray, I feel as though the Lord says, “Not now, Cowart. Take a number. Get in line. You’ll be number 87; I’m taking care of number 14 right now. But, don’t worry, I’ll get around to you”.

What’s the difference between Wes’ prayers and mine?

I think it’s a matter of the Lord knowing that I have much more of the blessed virtue of patience than Wes has.

That's what I tell myself anyhow.