Love's little risks

June 23, 2008. A most unusual thing happened to me this morning, and I would like to share it with you. I was walking in the cemetery praying intensely; it had been about a half hour. I was thinking that love always involves risk. The first love-risks that came to mind were the biggies --- marriage, friendship. But then I remembered Jesus striking up a conversation with the woman at the well, first century equivalent to the bus stop.

Deep in the heart of the cemetery, in a clearing in the woods, is a mausoleum. As I approached, I noticed a man with his back to me, standing up against the building, with his hands on it and his body rocking, as if at the Wailing Wall. When I got nearer, I heard him wailing loudly.

I was going to pass by --- to respect his privacy in mourning. But I have respected people's privacy all my life. I asked the Lord if He wanted me to go to the man, and if He did, would He please give me words. I kept walking in his direction, still hearing no words from the Lord. Against every habit of my 56 years, I walked up to the man and touched him. I found myself rubbing his back. He said only this: "My mother." I said I was sorry, and I cried with him (I am not a crier.). I asked if he knew Jesus. No answer. Then I asked if I could pray with him. He nodded through wails.

I believe that was a breakthrough for me. I do not think I will ever again be quite as afraid to approach a stranger. I am a fast walker, my children complain. But on the way out of the cemetery I saw an old man I always walk briskly past, and I stopped. He is 88 years old, and I learned about World War II, and his stroke in '82. And he had tears in his eyes.