Dreaming and drooling are not exactly considered great approaches to praying. But if I’m sitting in my comfy, green chair early in the morning, that’s usually what happens. Sleeping can’t be an option, so if I get the chance to walk and pray, I do it.
I shuffle outside with my hoodie and plastic sandals, barely conscious of the fact I’ve even gotten out of bed yet. The birds and morning sunshine are often there to greet me like God’s warm smile. And as I step onto the sidewalk and pass our neighbor’s leafy oak, I flip my hood over my bald head and talk to God.
“Thank you, Lord, for creating those mountains and giving the sun its power. . .” The prayer is usually the same, a little mechanical, but God is patient with me. The story of the prodigal son keeps me praying and walking. He was a mess, but he didn’t have to take many steps toward home before his dad hiked up his robe and came running to him. God just wants to see me try.
Like the prodigal, after taking just a few tired steps one morning, I found myself surprised by the Father’s love just up the street. Passing the gravel path to the park, I rattled off, “Please, God, use our family to be a light for you,” and just as I finished, I looked up through the trees hanging over the sidewalk and saw a woman spraying weeds.
The introvert in me sounded the alarm to divert course. All of the excuses hit me like a Wal-Mart grocery list:
I shouldn’t bother her.
She probably just wants to enjoy a quiet morning.
It’s just me and Jesus now.
The excuses came quickly because I already knew what God wanted. I asked to be a light, and He was answering that prayer. He wanted a conversation to happen.
I didn’t.
My heart started pounding, and the questions replaced the excuses.
What will I say?
Is this really God speaking to me?
As I came through the trees, I pulled off my creepy hood and slowed down. Spray-stick in hand, she walked toward my end of her driveway and made eye-contact. We said good morning, talked about the relentlessness of weeds, and then she did something brave. She asked if I would help her.
“Could you unclog my gutter?” she asked, pointing to a certain spot where the water was pouring down, leaking into her basement. It was the point where the rubber meets the road, so to speak, especially for one who calls himself a Christian. It seemed like a set up. It wouldn’t have surprised me if some Religion majors from Colorado College were hiding in the bushes with cameras, secretly researching how Christians really treat their neighbors.
Or maybe it was a set up only God could orchestrate.
“Of course,” I said, and we grabbed her ladder.
She told me she lives alone as I pulled myself onto her roof, legs dangling. Blood thumped through my veins, interrupting her words. The possibility of falling to my death suddenly became a very serious reality. Okay, what’s my next move, I thought.
I flopped my left leg and plastic sandal onto the rough shingles. Little shockwaves of panic worked their way from my fingertips to my toes, but I played it off. Half smiling but desperately clinging to the roof like a cat hanging over water, I looked into the gutter and pulled out a handful of black sludge.
My neighbor looked up at me with wide eyes, probably praying she wouldn’t have to watch my flailing body fall into her bushes. She stepped back to avoid the black splatters of gutter scum being tossed into her grass. Clearly, we were bonding, so I found a more stable spot and asked a more personal question.
“Where do you go for community? Have you found a church?”
I winced as that last line slipped out. It was a question that should have led to awkward silence, but her reply came as natural as a conversation about the weather. She grew up going to a Catholic church but stopped when a scandal surrounding her priest blew everything up.
“I miss it though,” she said.
Her face was bright, and when I invited her to our church, she got excited. God was setting this up. We were his characters, and He was our Author, an author who saw us beyond our neighborly facades.
As she smiled and held the ladder, I started to come down.
“I asked Jesus to help me with this gutter,” she yelled. “I didn’t know what to do, but I’m going to thank Him.”
I almost fell off the roof. What? If there was any doubt about whether God really wanted us to talk, her words, like the warmth of that morning sunlight, drove those clouds away. We carried her ladder into the garage, and before we said goodbye, looking down at the ground, she told me her daughter died in 2003. She was missing her.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. The two of us were quiet. Then, in the silence, I decided to get real.
“When I was walking,” I said, “I felt like God wanted me to talk with you.” She waited, processing what I told her, and then she looked up with the beginning of a smile just starting to form on her face. God was there, and we both knew it.
Clearing out the gutter probably took 15 minutes, but in that time, God pulled back the curtains of an ordinary walk to show us His heart. A woman prayed about her gutter, and the God who knows our names heard that prayer, but He also saw a deeper need. He saw past the water filling a basement to the heart of a woman struggling in a desert of loneliness. With a laugh breaking through her smile, she thanked me for climbing on her roof.
“I think God wanted this to happen,” I said smiling back at her. Walking back through the tunnel of trees, the silence felt like music, and I wanted to sing. My neighbor and I had seen God weave in His wonder, and my ordinary walks and mechanical prayers would never be the same.
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I love that you listened to God’s prompting. I pray I will do the same.
Awesome story of listening to the prompting of the Holy Spirit! Thanks for sharing!
Thanks Candy! Sometimes it seems like God won’t let us not listen. He’s too invested in us. Thanks for your encouragement! It means a ton!
Thanks Tresa. Great to hear from you. We all need God’s help when it comes to listening.
I find it funny how when we are ignoring the Holy Spirit’s urge to speak to someone how he goes ahead puts that person directly in your path. God didn’t allow you to ignore His still, small voice… He made that encounter happen!
Exactly, Monique! Thankfully God often won’t let us ignore Him. He’s too excited for us to see what will happen when He uses us. Thank you so much for your comments and for reading!
So true. Years ago I bought a gallon of milk for a mom of 3 young children. While I was doing my shopping I just felt I should (seemingly out of nowhere)
I left it on her porch and went home. A few days later I found out she had forgotten to get milk on her shopping trip (cause, kids and shopping, you know)
She was so excited (and relieved)
It was a great big “hug” from God for the both of us.
Hi Veronica! I love the way you call God’s leading in our lives “Great big hugs from God.” That’s an awesome way to view those experiences! And buying a gallon of milk for a mom out of nowhere is one of those examples of God definitely prompting you! Thank you for listening and for passing along the story. We need to tell our stories to help fan the flame inside of all of us.
Thank you for being so real, Erin! Your story was both encouraging and convicting. It’s easy to ask God to use us, but much more difficult to answer His call to service. But what a blessing when we give Him more than lip service and put our plastic sandals to work!! Thank you for sharing.
Wow Judy! Thanks for that encouragement! Yep, my plastic sandals didn’t want to go to work that morning, but God made it happen. I’m so thankful for His patience with us.
Good job bro!
Thanks Tom! So good to hear from you!
That’s incredible! Thank you for sharing this. It inspires me to listen and feel more carefully for those nudges I’m certain He gives me – that I’m sure I often miss.
You’re welcome, Matt. Yes. I know what you mean. There are so many times when it seem like God might be nudging me to do something, and I’m sure I miss it. Thankfully, God is patient with us and keeps nudging–or even body slamming us–to make sure we hear from Him.
How often I scold myself for rabbit trails of thought and diversion from “my schedule”. God’s nudging are real and produce fruit. Thanks for sharing a perfect illustration, Erin.
Thanks for that comment, Pat. We can so easily get caught up with our own agendas that we miss what God wants. That’s why it’s so good that God finds ways to make sure we hear from Him. Yes, His nudgings are real! Praise God!!
Nothing like open ears and heart to lead you to someone in need.
Amen, sister! It was so good to see you at church last weekend!
Thank you, Erin, for the beautiful story and the answer you had for God and doing his bidding. I have been in situations such as this especially with the advocacy work that I do. That still small voice of God calling you to do something always end up a blessing to yourself.
Thanks Melinda! I’d love to hear more about the advocacy work you do! That’s so cool that you’ve found ways to make yourself available to hear from God!
So glad you were open to the Spirit’s leading, Erin. He told me He wants you to wear tennis shoes next time! 🙂
Hilarious, Nancy! Yes, tennis shoes would’ve been way better! But God is so big and good that He held me on that roof and showed up in that moment despite my plastic sandals. What a God we serve!!
Really enjoy reading these stories of yours, Mr. Ahnfeldt! God Bless
Great to hear from you, Van! Thanks for reading the stories and thanks for that encouragement!