the list.

At my first ever Wednesday night prayer meeting at JRA, I prayed for some guy named Elmer. I had gotten his prayer card, (I seem to remember thinking it had been written by his wife, if he has one) which explained that he had cancer. He needed prayer.

Sure enough, I saw his name on the cancer list that night. And thus began something of a Wednesday night ritual. Pray in groups, pray for weather, pray over cards, and then the cancer list.

Every week, I've scanned the list until I come to Elmer's name. And I pray, "Father, I don't know Elmer, I don't know what Your plans are for his health, but if You could just be close to him right now. I mean, I don't know, I'm sure You already are close to him. Just be extra close to him, You know? Please."

Some weeks, I've wondered what it would mean if Elmer's name were ever not on the list. I've guessed it'd mean one of two things.

Tonight, his name wasn't on the list.

My heart dropped out of the bottom of my feet. No, we had a thing. Me, and God, and Elmer's name in big, black print up on the screen. Please God, I prayed, don't let it be the other of the two things.

I lean over to the girl next to me and ask if there's any way to find out why someone might have been taken off the list. She asks me who was taken off. Elmer. And this is wonderful, friends. She told me that he had been taken off in a good way. Good news from the doctor.

I don't know what exactly that means. I still don't know who Elmer is.

But tonight, God loved us both.

I sat in the semi-dark of the prayer meeting, tearing up a bit, and thinking that God has known this moment since that first Wednesday way back in August. He has known the sweetness, and the rush of gratitude, and the ways in which the lives of two strangers, unknown to one another, would tangle in the light of His love.