The Power of Prayer

**WARNING: LONG POST**

Well, it just happened again.. twice in two days it has. There are whole weeks that go by without it happening and then suddenly, out of nowhere and back-to-back no less, I am praying with people.

Yesterday was kinda tough, to be honest. A man came to the door looking for an AA/NA group, he thought they were meeting at the church where I serve. To his dismay, we have no such meetings on a Wednesday (we have them on the weekends). He was really desperate and needed to talk with someone. I, out of lack of experience, told him I am not a qualified AA person or counselor. He didn't care- he needed someone to talk with and fast. So, in a moment of confusion and sympathy, I invited him in and downstairs. We each pulled up a chair in the fellowship hall and he began to tell his story to me.

Almost immediately, he began to cry. Actually, to say that he was crying was an understatement. He was whailing... loudly... head tiled back, mouth open, slobber going everywhere, like an excited Great Dane, who welcomes you after a long absence, tears flying out, and head shaking uncontrollably. "WHY?!! Why does God allow me to suffer?!", he screamed. He is a substance and alcohol abuser and cannot break his habit. He'd been on a 2-week stint away from his family and was just now coming down from his heigh feeling guilty. "Where is your God?!! Where is my God??! Why?! Why?! Why must I suffer?!" Then, in a moment of almost exhaustion, he whispers, "I ought to just go ahead and kill myself."

All a person in my shoes could do was listen. And that I did ever so quietly. I let him cry and scream and cuss. I nodded silently while at other times simply shrugged my shoulders. There wasn't much I could say. Why indeed, does God allow us to suffer like we do? What could I have said in that moment to make him feel better or to calm him? So, I said nothing... or a long while.

Then, when his tears began to subside, I asked him about his family. He told me about his three kids and, courageous wife, who but for the grace of God, hasn't left him. I asked him if he loved his kids and if he knew that his kids (who were too young to not love their dad) loved him too. We talked about the consequences life has for us when we make bad decisions and how some of those consequences stay with us long after we make our bad choices. He seemed to agree and promised me that he'd stick around for his kids' sake.

And then.. and then we prayed. I thanked God for God's care and protection; I asked God to surround this man with kindness and people who care about him; I asked God to pour out God's spirit on us as we go about doing that which we ought, even when things get tough. I also praised God for Jesus and the love demonstrated by God for us. All the while, the man sat somewhat quietly, offering his own prayers and nodding his head every once in awhile (yes, sometimes I pray with my eyes open, sometimes I need to do that in nyc).

After it was all over and we prayed to God, the man thanked me and promised to come by once in awhile to see me, when he was sober or when he needed someone to pray for him.

I experienced a pure ministerial moment. And I did again this afternoon. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, our church (working cooperatively with the Franciscan Community Center) hand out free sandwiches on the street corner. We have our usual customers and every so often a new one who stops by for the sandwich lunch in a brown paper sack. Today, when I brought the sandwiches upstairs, there was a line around the corner and the sandwiches, which are handed out on a first-come, first-serve basis, were handed out in about 26 seconds.

As I was taking down the tables, I was approached by one of the regulars who missed the sandwich give-a-way. He is usually there right on time, today he was late. Astounded the sandwiches were gone so fast, we talked a bit about his life and hard times. Presently, he was to be evicted because the landlord in his Single Resident Occupany (SRO) apartment run with the city's Housing Authority and private owners, said he hadn't paid his rent (when he had). He was almost out on the street when he found the proof he needed, with a document trail, from his bank. Jubilant, he asked if we could thank God for this victory. Happy for him, we prayed right there on the street corner. Thanking God for God's blessings and asking the Spirit to continue to provide great things, my friend experienced a special moment with God.

I am hear to tell you, many of the folks who live and wander the streets around the church know first-hand the power of God. For some of them, God is all they have left. Their substance abuse has driven off most, if not all, family members and friends. When they are down on the luck, with only change in their pockets, they know it is only God that sustains them, even while they carry around their various demons.

When I think about the struggles of the homeless and disenfranchised in my city, (yes, New York City is my city as it is to everyone who lives here, it is their city too)- I wonder how far apart they are from the very wealthy, who, too, have their own various demons and afflictions yet fail to 'fall on their knees' when they need God the most deciding instead to trust in themselves. For many of the disenfranchised in this city that I am called to serve, I think they are the ones who God cares for in an extra special way. If only the rest of us could trust in God like they do, this world would be such a better place.