Giving prayer a go in my garden

I am standing outside my front door, clasping hold of a steaming mug of tea, having just handed over a similarly filled mug to Andy*, the handyman. He is here to help with various tasks around the house and garden and, having just finished repairing the doorstep, he is happy to pause to take a quick break.

Andy is a ‘familiar stranger’. I don’t see him very often, but he’s usually a cheery chap. Today though, he seems subdued. It could simply be that the overcast wintry weather is dampening his mood, but I can’t help wondering whether something is troubling him.

As we stand chatting, catching up on how things have been since his last visit, I feel an inner Holy Spirit nudge – and I know I need to be bold. So I send up an arrow prayer and take a deep breath.

“Is everything OK with you, Andy?” I ask him, as kindly as I can, when the ebb and flow of the conversation allows for an interruption. “You seem muted compared to normal.”

He looks at me quizzically. “I guess I am a bit muted,” he concedes, attempting a smile.

I take a sip of tea, and nod for him to continue.

“One of my closest friends has recently been diagnosed with cancer,” he reveals, before pouring out how the prognosis isn’t good; how he doesn’t know how he’ll cope if his friend dies; how he’s struggling to know what to say or do to help him.

Even as he’s speaking, I sense a surge of courage-and-compassion rising up within me – and I send up another arrow prayer. “Do you ever pray?” I ask him, pushing on before he has a chance to respond. “Do you know if anyone has prayed yet for your friend to be healed?”

I am unprepared for Andy’s reaction. “Why are you asking me that?” he says, his voice suddenly cracking, as he chokes back tears. “The local vicar came round last week, unannounced, and asked me those exact same questions!”

I take a swig of tea, and smile. “Maybe God wants you to consider what prayer is, and how it works,” I suggest, thinking on my feet. “Maybe that’s why he’s sent two of us to ask you about it.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, before telling me that he really isn’t religious and, even if he believed that prayer works, he wouldn’t know where to begin.

But I am not prepared for pushback. So I ask questions – and it doesn’t take much for me to elicit the health headlines about his friend. His name is Mark. He’s in his 40s. It’s cancer of the bowel. There might be secondaries. The doctors have given him only a few more months to live.

“Prayer is simply a conversation between us and God,” I explain. “God loves us so much that he wants a relationship with us, and prayer is the way we communicate with him.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“God loves you, Andy,” I continue. “He also loves Mark.” I pause a moment, pray imperceptibly under my breath, and then continue. “Why don’t I pray?” I say. “You can listen along and, if you agree with what I’ve said, you can say ‘Amen’ at the end.”

Before Andy can disagree, I am praying out loud – asking God to heal Mark; speaking life into his body; commanding the cancer to go in the name of Jesus.

I am acutely aware of Andy’s gaze, watching me as I utter the words. So I also pray for him – thanking God for loving him; speaking peace into his mind; asking God to give him words and actions that will bring comfort to Mark.

When I reach the end, he is tearful. But he is also firm in his ‘Amen’. “Thanks,” he says, choking back tears again.

As he bends over to put his now-empty mug on the ground, and pick up a paint brush, I suggest that he, too, could pray to Jesus. He looks unconvinced. “Anyone can give it a go,” I reassure him.

Later, just before Andy leaves, I hand him a copy of my book and encourage him to read it. “It contains ten true stories, which will show you what happens when people pray, including when they pray for cancer to be healed,” I tell him.

He seems touched, and tears well up again.

As he carts his kit out to the van on the road, I realise it’s unclear when I will next see him. So I find myself asking God to put other Christians across his path; that he will learn how to pray for himself; that Mark will be healed …

***

How many of us, in any given week, cross paths with a person who has received sad news? How many of us even notice? How many of us could be the one God chooses to use to bring his “light through the cracks” to that person?

The next time you encounter someone like Andy, why don’t you ask God to give you courage and compassion to pray for their situations? The worst that can happen is that they decline. But you also never know. Maybe that person will let you pray with them!

As ever, constructive comments are welcome below.

*Name changed to protect identity.

Photo by Steve Lieman via Unsplash