On a bright Sunday in October, an acquaintance from a nearby town called to ask whether he was welcome to stop by with people from his church so they could put their hands on my wife and pray for her. Margaret responded that God knew enough of her without people reporting to Him about her contours, but our acquaintance persisted by warning that the devil causes human suffering and that healing can occur only when the Lord has been properly beseeched. “No thanks,” she said. “Though maybe if God Himself ever wants to put His hands on me, I’ll be in the mood.”
When they involve no touching of her by strangers, Margaret welcomes prayers. Yet usually such offerings cause me to think about unanswered prayers; for example, the millions of urgent prayers of intercession for the people trapped on upper floors of the burning Twin Towers. A former co-worker contacted me to say she had heard about my wife’s misfortune and was praying for her, but happily acknowledged the earthly limits of prayer: should the cancer prove fatal, God will have shown “He loves Margaret so much He wants her near Him in Heaven.”
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