Early Service

Today I sat down at the same table, at the same coffee shop that I go to every Sunday. I go here to get alone, (isn't it weird that I go to a public place to get alone...) free from homework (sometimes I do homework..), free to read my books and think about life. Partly to reflect on the past week, and partly to reflect on the upcoming week. Its my time. Often times it is uneventful; I read, I eat, I drink and I leave.

However, today is just the opposite. Have you ever broke down crying in a public place, while listening to someone else's story sitting across the room from you? Today, I did. Its this group of older sunday church goers, you know the ones that go to the "Early Service." Like me, they come every Sunday and sit at the same table. I often overhear them talk about the usual chit-chat that "Early Service" attenders talk about; grandkids, their stock, the sermon, and the lack of respect of the younger generation. (Thats not totally true, but I am sure it could be) However, this Sunday was different, maybe not their conversation but maybe just what I heard. As I was setting up my computer, I heard the phrase, "Liver and Surgery" followed by the phrase " Did you hear what happened?" My ears perked up and I was struggling to listen in on the conversation I was not apart of. What I heard next, completely painted a picture of a faraway land my eyes have never seen. It was like a spark to my imagination. My faith was taking over my senses; taking me to a place where hope and life meet. It was Divine.

Lets listen to the story, "It was the night before the surgery to take out 70% of John's Liver, he had been struggling with cancer for awhile. Well, (thats the connecting word senior citizen's use all the time) the night before, John was laying down in his bed when he woke up completely wet from his own sweat. He immediately got up and began to walk around and cool down. After Nearly two hours of continous sweating, exhausted, he went to bed and eventually fell asleep, still completely soaked. The next morning, he arrived to the hospital and after all the paper work and prep work, he was finally rolled away into the OR. The procedure was planned for 3-5 hours. Wendy, John's wife, was in the waiting room just settling into the uncomfortable chair of the waiting room when the doctor came back after only forty five minutes." Of course, Wendy expected the worse, she stood up to meet the doctor halfway. "I just knew the worse happened, I don't know what happened to my faith, I just expected the worse" Wendy told the group. The doctor, with a lump in his throat, pronounced, "I can't explain what happened, but there was no cancer....there is no cancer..."

This was the point where my emotions overcame my pride and I cried. I cried partly because of Wendy and John. I cried partly because my imagination was sparked; faith and hope were fueled by love. I realize that God doesn't always do things that way, healing takes many different forms. However, just when you come to a point where you lose sight of the hope and the weight of the world seems so dense, we, the people of God can tell the stories where Yahweh provided (even to those that aren't sitting at your table). Today the manna fell. Today I will eat.