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.