Pray for Helen. The words came to mind during my morning devotionals. “Helen who? I asked myself.
I had three friends named Helen but, to the best of my knowledge, none needed special prayers. Still, I asked God to be with “Helen” whatever her need. Later I checked with the three Helens I knew. I was right. They had no special need for prayer.
For seven mornings I heard the same request, and for seven mornings I prayed for the mysterious Helen. On the eighth day the order stopped. Has Helen solved her problem? I wondered.
I’d forgotten the Helen incident by the time a letter with a Florida postmark arrived. My mother had forwarded it from our home in Arkansas to Los Angeles, where I was living. “I’m writing this for our mutual friend, Helen Chambers . . .” the letter began. “Helen told me that you played together as children. She has always valued your friendship.” I smiled. Yes, I recalled Helen Chambers.
Then I read on: “Now she is desperately ill with pneumonia. Even though you haven’t communicated in a long time, she wants you to pray for her.” The letter had been mailed on the same day that I’d received the first mysterious order to pray.
Quickly I dialed the telephone number given at the bottom of the page. Helen sounded excited to hear from me. “Oh, yes,” she said, “I’m much better. I’m so thankful you received my message.”
“Yes, Helen,” I replied. “I received the message.”
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