One day last week I was sitting in my office in the middle of the afternoon when the phone rang. The voice on the other end told me that something awful had happened. “Can you come?” they asked. I got in my car and drove to where they were, gathered with about a dozen family members in a hospital waiting room, buried under the weight of an unexpected, tragic loss. For about 30 minutes we sat in a circle, crying, no one really saying much, until one person turned to me to say, “Could you offer a prayer?”
Now, that should be an easy request for me. The fact is there’s a reason I got the call that day. When the world is spinning off its axis, the person in my shoes is expected to be able to step up and do something. Stop the spinning, or at least keep us from passing out. Or so I tell myself. But that day, I just wasn’t myself. Something had happened that morning. It was a small thing, nothing more than a criticism from a passerby, but when I walked into that waiting room, it still had me by the throat. Nonetheless, I (bravely?) said, “Of course, I’d be glad to offer a prayer.” Everyone closed their eyes and bowed their heads. In my memory, what came out next was something like alphabet soup after it’s been thrown to the ground by a toddler and licked up by the dog. Letters all mixed up, the only vowel remaining, U, so the only thing you can say is, umm, uh.
Somehow, after about 90 seconds of verbal vomit, I remembered what Ann Lamott once said, that the only two prayers you need are, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” and “Help me, help me, help me.” Yes, let’s try that, I told myself. “God, whoever, wherever, you are, thank you for hearing us. Now help us.” To which an aunt, sitting two spots over to my left, blurted out, “Amen.” Only, I wasn’t done with my prayer. But what do you do when someone says Amen? You say Amen too and be done with it. So that’s what I and everyone else in the room did. We said Amen and opened our eyes.
At that point, the only thing I could think to do was get out of there as quickly as possible. I stood up, thanked the family for welcoming me, said peace be with you, and walked out.
On my way back to the parking lot, I ran into someone else I knew and stopped to chat for a minute next to the vending machines. While standing there, the aunt from the waiting room just happened to come by to get some crackers. “Thank you for coming today” she said to me. “It means a lot to us that you came right over.” “Anytime,” I said to her. Calking a smirk, I added, “I got to tell you, though, you really threw me off back there when I was praying and you said Amen. I wasn’t quite done yet.” Putting her hand on my arm, she gave me a tender smile. “Sorry about that, but you sounded like you could use some help.”
You understand, this is a story about the difference between those who are willing to help but can’t, those who are able to help but won’t, and those who can help and do. It is also a story about grace, which can be of help to everyone.
PleaseGrace 