The Prayer

I walked in the front door to the little organization and was immediately greeted by a sweet southern woman. I could tell from the minute I saw her smile she was all heart, deeply honest, and unapologetically real. I loved her immediately, and felt a special bond to her.

Over the next few years, I would volunteer my time there — in part so I could watch and learn from her. Every day, people would walk through her door in crisis. Some more severe than others. Sometimes she would drop everything and go to a private place to counsel them. Other times, they would talk in the lobby and I would listen as she asked hard questions. Sometimes, she would point out their inconsistencies and, in love, tell them what they need to change to be a better person. Without fail, she would turn around the very next minute and ask, “Can I pray for you?” I watched her pray for person after person walking through her door, and sometimes had the honor of praying with her myself.

She is deeply honest, has a profound prayer life, and she is funny. She is a genuinely fun person to be around, and people want to be around her too. She is creative and full of life and above all else, she is faithful. She lives in a rather simple little town tucked away in the foothills of the Smokeys. There is, to be sure, not a whole lot going on there. But she stays anyway, and is faithful to the people there.

Every week I would go and every week I would see her reach out to someone else. I’ve seen her hug the broken hearted and touch the “dirty.” She loves the shamed, the “underbelly people”, people who had made bad decisions — she has enough room in her heart to love everyone.

She didn’t realize then, nor does she now, how much of an influence she had on me. 

I was there to volunteer and help where I could, but over time, I found I was the one in need of help. I was the one who needed her, just as much as anyone else who came through her door in the midst of crisis. I was on the fringe, I was one of the broken people who needed her hug and prayer. I was another person in crisis, walking through her door. Sometimes you don’t know you are in need until someone loves you enough to show you that there was something missing before. She loved me well, and I knew in her I had found a safe place. 

She showed me how to pray, even when it feels uncomfortable. She taught me to love the people on the fringe. She showed me what it looked like to put down roots even if it might be uncomfortable to stay when things get hard. She showed me that I can do more by praying and hugging than by just having the right answers. She taught me to make room for people who were hurting.

I didn’t get to devote as much time as I would have liked to that place with her, and eventually it came time to move away. Several months later, I called because a situation came up in my life that she was perfect to help with. I talked, she listened, as she does best. She did research and gave me sound advice on how to best move forward. At the end of our conversation, she asked, “Can I pray for you now?” I let her, and teared up because she’s just so wonderful. We hung up, and she called back a week later to follow up with me — to ask how I was, and how things went. I told her that they didn’t go like we had hoped, and she told me she was so sorry. She kept praying. Because she knows that there is still hope, even if everything seems hopeless.

When I moved, it felt like time froze behind me. It didn’t, though. She’s still there, faithfully staying where she’s been called. Faithfully praying for everyone who walks in. She will continue to laugh and make others laugh. She will continue to pray for those facing difficulty. She will continue to be there for those whom everyone else has given up on. Her warmth, welcome, heart, and realness will continue to touch everyone she knows in that simple little town.