I was sitting amongst the other parents at a birthday party. Quite frankly, I cannot even recall what it was we were discussing when a man, a dad of one of the kids, approached me. He had been standing, separate from the mostly mom group, watching his daughter attempt gymnastic feats through a glass doorway.
Can you do something for your Father?
I stared back at him, completely bewildered, and said, I’m sorry, what???
He repeated himself while pointing his finger to the ceiling. Again, bewildered, I answered him a “sure”. I was decidedly unsure but was open to having him continue. He said he was compelled to pray for me, took my hand upon asking, and prayed in Hebrew. He instructed me to repeat a phrase, Elohim Lee, Lo’erah, at the end. He told me that the rough translation of the prayer he said and the phrase I repeated asked God, the Father to heal me in all that ails me and to say this phrase whenever I was sick or scared.
I thanked him for the prayer and turned back to the now silent group.
Was it awkward? Um, yes. Usually when presented with anything religious, most of us -me included- get uncomfortable. We tend to avoid acknowledging others, or even our own, belief systems in such a public setting. Though the timing of this experience certainly contributed to the uncomfortability, the sentiment seemed genuine and pure of heart.
A dear friend of mine who was witness to this experience said later that the interaction was breathtaking. That it reminded her that there is so much we can do for one another, even when we think it’s not our place to do so.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn throughout this experience is accepting help. I still struggle with it, tending to do more than I should when I am feeling well. Help, however, can take on different shapes and doesn’t always have to “look” like what we expect it to.
She went on to say that how I handled the interaction showed my acceptance of what is happening to me now, my faith in what is planned for me, as well as my faith in others and in what’s to come.
Her words left me squishy in the heart, teary eyed, and speechless (which seems to be happening often on this journey).
I can’t take full credit for this, though. I have to say a prayer of thanks for this wildly diverse but equally amazing collection of help-givers.
It is you that has opened my heart wider, restored my faith, given me hope when the stores are low, and showed me the true meaning of agape (unconditional love). I can only hope to do these actions, and you, justice as I journey to healing and health.
After all, we’re all just walking each other home.
Love and light, always 
grace and fbombs 