I was running late, yes, I should have left for home an hour ago and, suddenly, one of our former students burst into the room. Yes, I remembered her, a tortured soul, a Syrian refugee: two of her four children were missing, somewhere in Syria, and she had no food (I had met her in the food bank); anguish was written on her tired, worn features.
I wonder what she wants? I thought .. but her face was
beaming.
She didn’t want anything - only the opportunity to say 'thank you' to me. “This is the third time I have come looking for you!" she said. "You
prayed to 'the God' from your heart and your prayer is answered. I
can stay in the country, I have found my daughter. I have come to say 'thank
you'.”
We prayed again, this time to say 'thank you' to God and pray for her missing son in Syria. It
was a loaded moment, a timeless, never-to-be-forgotten moment; who felt more moved? Her? Me?
It reminded me of that acount in Luke's Gospel, relating how Jesus healed ten lepers - and one
returned, thankful, thankful, thankful.
And I, in my turn, say, 'Thank You, thank You, thank You, God,
for the turning of this women’s fortunes, thank You for answering our prayers –
and thank You for the blessing this grateful woman's words brought to me!
Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus travelled along the
border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men
who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a
loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”
When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the
priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.
One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back,
praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked
him—and he was a Samaritan. Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the
other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this
foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you
well.” (Luke 17:11-19)
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