We picked up our wings. That’s code for there is some football game thing, and I need food to bear through it. Sorry, Falcons fans. No. Really. Sorry. Anyhoo, a very good friend of mine (who is also my hair stylist which is code for VERY good friend) sent me a text to pray for her baby boy. Poor thing had slipped out of his big sister’s hands, hit his noggin’, and scared his momma to pieces. ‘Cause we mommas are good at getting scared to pieces.
I called her back immediately and prayed with her over the phone. Then, I knew I couldn’t just sit and wait on her to call me back from the Emergency Room. And, after I told Dad what was going on, he got all, “Um, I’m there pastor, I need to be there.” So, off we went together.
I watched Dad pray for this sweet, baby boy. Then, as we were leaving, I watched him pray for someone else.
It was an elderly lady waiting to be checked after a fall.
“Has anyone prayed for you?” He asked her.
“No, sir,” she told him.
So, he prayed.
As we drove away, Dad said something to me that has stayed with me.
“One of the greatest joys of being a pastor and doing what I do is getting to pray for people.”
I’ve never heard Dad say, one of the greatest joys of being a pastor is growing the largest church. Although, I know that changed lives matter to him.
But, I know that people matter to him most.
I left that hospital with a full heart and a holy perspective on what it means to be a pastor.
I hope I still say after 35 years in ministry, I GET to pray for people.
As for the sweet, baby boy? He is just fine. And, that scared momma? Well, I don’t even think she noticed the Falcons lost.