Years ago a friend introduced me to the concept of putting shoe leather on our prayers. By that she meant prayer could be doing as well as saying and thinking.
I thought of this last Sunday at church when someone pointed out that Edgar was not there. Edgar is always there. He usually sits in a pew on the left about two-thirds of the way back and hardly ever holds up a hymnal because he knows all the hymns by heart.
At 95, he is the oldest male in the parish. (Can’t say for sure if he’s the oldest member because the women are a little more cagey about their age.) He walks without a cane, dresses sharply, and the first question he ever asks me is, “How are the boys?” Our boys considered him a surrogate grandfather when they were growing up.
“Edgar’s in the hospital,” our pastor told us later. “He had some troubles breathing.”
“Prayers for Edgar,” I said aloud and to myself. Prayers would be the best we could do. But of course, as quick as I said it, I thought, Geez, you should go visit him, too.
I went home, took off my shoes and tried to talk myself out of visiting him. It was a Sunday. He would probably have a lot of other visitors. It would make for too much excitement. He needed his rest. And what if I got the name of the hospital wrong? What if he wasn’t there?
They sounded like lousy excuses even to me. Finally I said to my wife, “I’m going to go see if I can find Edgar.” I put my shoes back on and headed out the door.
I found him on the seventh floor of the hospital, lying in bed, wearing a winning smile. We talked about his prognosis and the results of some tests he was waiting for. Then I asked him about his favorite hymns. After all, he missed out on singing in church that morning.
He mentioned “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” and “Let Us Break Bread Together on Our Knees.”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and found recordings of both of them. He held up the cell close to his ear–he’s a little hard of hearing–and the two of us sang together, our voices blending, making our own worship service in the hospital.
“That was heartwarming,” he said. Truly it was, for both of us. My visit with Edgar was just what I needed to do with my Sunday afternoon. I’m glad I didn’t listen to my excuses. Some prayers require shoe leather, even if the shoes are sneakers.
