Show Up, God

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Recently I was officiating for a large wedding at a golf club In Quincy, Mass., which meant I had the joy of sitting on Rt. 93 in Boston traffic to get to the venue. It has been a stressful and draining couple of months, and I was dragging before I even got in the car. So as I sat in traffic, I prayed a simple prayer: "Show up, God. I've got nothing. So, that's it. That's my prayer. Just show up."

The wedding was lovely, the couple is charming; but with both literal and figurative miles to go before I sleep, I wasn't staying for the reception and looked for a way to make a quick exit. There was a side door out of the ballroom with stairs down to the parking lot, but as I went to exit, the string quartet was having trouble making their way through the crowd to play for the cocktail hour. So I decided to go out the regular way, using my ministerial authority to plow a way through the crowd for the musicians behind me.

With them safely at their destination, I headed for the main door and was stopped by a guest. I knew a few people there, but not this gentleman, and after complimenting me on the ceremony he asked if he could speak with me. We found a place in the crush and he asked if I would pray with him. He had learned on his way to the ceremony that his brother had taken his life.

He had told no one. "I don't want to take anything away from their day," he said. "But I heard you and thought maybe I could tell you and ask you to pray." And so, as the string quartet played and the guests ate hors d'oeuvres and drank cocktails, we stood at the bottom of the stairs in the crowd and I prayed for his brother and for his family and for God to receive a tormented soul in loving peace.

He thanked me, we talked a bit more, and he said he was worried about his brother's soul. I told him, "Suppose God told you that what happened to your brother's soul was up to you this time." I cupped my hands. "What would you do? Would you drop him?" He teared up and shook his head. "No."

"If you wouldn't drop him, why would God?" I asked. "God is far more loving and forgiving than we are. In fact, God IS love."

"I like that," he said. "I wouldn't drop him." We talked a bit more and I encouraged him to call if he and his family needed help in the days to come. And then I went out to my car.

Sitting almost still on Rt. 93 going the other way, I realized my prayer was answered. The way for God to show up was simply for me to show up. It's probably easier for God with an empty vessel anyway.

The Rev. Anne Robertson serves as pastor of Works at Crawford Memorial United Methodist Church in Winchester, Mass. She is the author of New Vision for an Old Story: Why the Bible Might Not Be the Book You Think It Is. This post is republished with permission from her Facebook page.