"God help me!" he cried as the ladder wobbled.
I smiled. "There are no atheists on an airplane."
"You see?" he said, "I'm not such an unbeliever."
"I see."
"But I'm not an atheist either."
"Agnostic. I know."
"Yes. That's right--"
"I respect the difference. I really do."
"Will you pray for something?"
What a question.
Does he know I'm already praying?
His mom's dog was sick, and he thought maybe he had a part in it.
He'd cared for the dog while mom was away.
Now the dog was ill, not eating, losing weight.
Later, when I left the shop he reminded me again,
"And don't forget to pray for the dog!"
"I won't"
and I didn't.
I prayed for that dog.
That God would touch this animal,
and in that healing would touch the carpenter.
Bring a sign of His tender mercy.
An assurance that old beliefs were true.
I reasoned with the personal God of the Universe.
"Please Abba." I prayed.
"Give him some evidence that
You're not merely this Force out there.
That you can be known.
That you care about the small things."
I prayed that he might heal this old dog,
and bring an old dog back to Himself.
I'm not accustomed to hearing His voice.
But I did seem to know that the dog would get better.
Was it Him in my soul,
or the cynic in my heart,
who also said,
It will probably be rationalized away?
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