Healing in the Handbag Aisle. A Note From Jan.

Today was a squint day.

Eyes adjusting from winter gray to springtime yellow.

Time for sunglasses. Brilliant, warming kind of sunshine.

Had a date to meet Gordon and Gail for lunch in Burlington.  Good to have time with old friends. I had about an hour before we were to meet so decided to get a new swimsuit.  Going to Florida in April with Kristina, Maggie and Kate and didn’t want to embarrass them with my old stretched out Marshall’s special.

Walked into Lord and Taylor, hoping for something unique in style. Preferably something with floor to ceiling coverage, if you get my drift. And drift is only part of the problem.

As I hobbled around the store, searching for swimsuits, I felt a strong tap on my shoulder and whirled around. A stranger said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” A young woman, probably in her late 20s, smiled pleasantly and looked at me with compassion. “Is your back bothering you?” she probed. “No, my knee.” I limp as most of you know who’ve seen me lately. Arthritis in my left knee.

She paused briefly and asked, “May I pray for you?” Mind you, we are not standing in a church aisle. We’re clogging up the handbag aisle at Lord and Taylor. I said, “Sure. I’m a Christian,” thinking she’d haul the request back to her prayer group. She pressed on, “May I pray for you now?” I thought, then said, “sure” again…thinking she’d whisper a prayer on behalf of my hobbled knee.

Next thing I knew, she’d bent over and placed a hand on my knee and began a prayer intended to reach beyond the walls of Lord and Taylor. We’re talking LOUD and STRONG, one hand in the air and it wasn’t mine. The aisle began to clear of shoppers. I became the “blue light special” that nobody wanted to get near.

When she’d finished, we exchanged names. What had I to lose, at this point. Then she said something strange, “You have no idea what you’ve done for my faith. I felt so prompted to pray. Thank you for letting me. I’m so encouraged.” I said, “I’m happy I could encourage you in your faith.”  I meant that but wasn’t exactly sure just how I’d done so, other than identified myself as a Christian and given her permission to pray for me. Thought to myself, I must appear very needy or safe.

Since I sensed no change physically, other than a slightly stunned sensation, I felt a strong need to perform for her sake…to make my knee behave, uncoil, lose the limp and really send her on her way rejoicing. I REALLY wanted to encourage her. Didn’t happen.

We hugged and off we went in opposite  directions. She to share, probably, and me to find a swimsuit. I never looked back to see if she was watching me, checking for results. Strange encounter. Need to puzzle on it.

At the top of the escalator, I entered the department of impossible dreams, thinking,”Where is that praying woman when I really need a miracle?!”  Racks overflowing with pieces more appropriate for use as a tourniquet than a body covering. Fitting rooms (there’s a misnomer) with three way mirrors. What sadist thought that up? A course in humility … as if I hadn’t had the basics in the handbag aisle! 

Well, at least one of us got to go on our way rejoicing. Some days are like that. Other days, you just have to suck it up or in and carry on. Even with a limp or lump or two. But don’t think I’m not paying attention to my left knee. Just in case God chose to show up through a stranger in the handbag aisle. Anything’s possible, thank God! And I do.