A prayer for John
How can I pray for John, who hobbles from his wheelchair to the bed
In the shelter that is a poor substitute for a nursing home?
He was crushed by a car, body and spirit.
His bridges burned, John looks now, in half-hearted jest
For another bridge.
This one for jumping.
After 40-something years, there are no life-long friends. No family to rally him,
No platoon members to save him, no co-workers to greet him,
no former neighbors or lodge brothers to slap him on the back and smile
Not a single sister, deacon, usher, or Sunday school teacher
From the store-front Missionary Baptist Church of his childhood
Who will weep with him and treasure his soul.
And now, in a random encounter, he grips my hand and asks for prayer.
I am a stranger.
How can I pray for John of the burned bridges and the broken body?
I sigh deeply, knowing .
His needs are mine too.
“Lord, grant us Wisdom to know Your will, and the strength to do that.”
From these two things, come all the rest;
peace, joy, brothers, sisters, and greener pastures.