Today was one of those days – the kind where the weight of the world settles in on your shoulders and makes you realize just how fragile you really are. I woke up from a horrible dream (I can’t begin to describe it, but suffice it to say it involved a man in Sock Monkey pajamas sitting next to me in bed and asking me questions I couldn’t answer) and immediately felt the day slip beyond my control. My entire ride to work was overshadowed by my anxiety over this one particular issue.
But then I get to my office and there’s a voicemail waiting for me, one left at 3:30 AM. “Pastor Brooks, this is the girl you prayed for at the church awhile back. I just wanted to call and let you know that everything worked out okay for me after you prayed. My parents are still getting divorced, but everything is better this way, and I’m much happier. Thanks for praying for me. It helped. I know I told you I would call you and tell you what happened, and I’m sorry it took me so long. But anyway, thanks.”
That’s it. My brain reels. For the life of me, I can’t figure out who the heck this girl is. I wonder if she somehow got a wrong number, but what are the odds that she would dial my direct office line and call me Pastor Brooks? I’d obviously met her somewhere in the past. But where? And why did she call in the middle of the night the exact same night I was having trouble sleeping?
Then I remembered: a few months ago, Rachel and I were getting our wills done at Rehoboth Baptist Church (don’t ask). I was running late, and Rachel called and told me about this girl who was at the church and in need of prayer, but there wasn’t a staff person available at the time. So Rachel asked me to pray with the girl when I arrived. I spent 10 minutes with the young woman, and most of it was spent listening as she sobbed about her parents fighting, her struggling to pay for her schooling at Le Cordon Bleu Culinary Arts School, her desperate need to know that someone cared. That God cared.
So I prayed with her. And then I handed her my business card from RZIM and told her to call me and let me know what God did.
Last night, as I struggled she called me. This morning, when I needed it, she reminded me of what God wanted me to remember. Not two minutes later a co-worker came and spoke to me and confirmed me as well. Then this afternoon, another co-worker affirmed me.
Basically, God spent the day telling me, “I got this. It’s all good.”
Sometimes, despite our cynical inclinations to disbelieve in the happy-ever-afters in this life, things really do work out. Today was one of those days.