Going back in time a lttle (I have so much to catch up on gradually;) on Tuesday evening I flew to England to spend a few days with Mum, but not before spending most of the day at a Staff Day Apart at work.
I drove to nearby Bradford early that morning, to pick up someone who needed a ride to Jackson's point, about 45 minutes away, where 50 of us would spend the day together in worship, having fun and a 3 hour training on Soul Care for the Caregiver.
On the way I told my passenger about the Nick, the 11 year old boy with Stevens Johnson Syndrome, for whom we've been praying. I told him the wonderful news that Nick's skin is already beginning to grow back.
That's when he told me a story I knew I had to share here:
A few years ago his mother called him about a man who was depressed due to family circumstances. Distraught, the man decided to end his life and went to the basement and where he planned to drink a bottle of drain cleaner. The pain of the liquid going down his throat was unbearable, and he dashed upstairs. He grabbed a jug of milk and drank as much as he could, then ran outside, where he was vomiting on the front lawn, when a police car came around the corner. A police car arriving at that very moment, in the small town he lived in, was highly unlikely, but that's what happened and he was rushed to the hospital where they did emergency surgery. The man remained in hospital for months, recovering, but he was told that due to the damage to his esophagus he would never speak again.
When my coworker's mother called to ask him to pray for the man, she just said the man needed prayer, she didn't give any details because of the stigma of a suicide attempt. Soon, many people were praying for him, even not knowing what the specific need was.
Three months later, the man went to the doctor. The doctor leafed through the reports on his desk, then looked up and said, "This is unbelievable, but there is no scar tissue. There is no reason why you shouldn't talk again."
Then he closed the file on the desk, looked at the man, and said, "Have people been praying for you?"
Later that day, over lunch, I asked my coworker to share the story with the others at our table.
This time he started the story, "My brother was depressed...."