Hide and Seek

On Thursday the girls were at their Home Learners program and Pax and I were running a few errands. We passed a man on the street who I have seen around my neighbourhood for at least 10 years. I know I used to see him and pray for him when Wade and I regularly volunteered at the Chili Wagon outreach our church does in a neighbourhood park.

I haven't had much engagement with him, I know his partner's name and in past years I have been more in the habit of passing him by, but I had an impulse we were to stop that day and talk to Ken. I took some coins from my wallet & handed them to Pax, and crouched down at eye level with both him and Pax. Ken was sitting on the sidewalk, Pax was standing. Pax put the coins in Ken's hand.

I greeted Ken and told him I knew from the Chili bus, and enquired about his partner, and began to make conversation with him. I noticed a crutch and Pax asked "What that for?" We told him. I admired Ken's new shave and haircut, and for the first time I can remember he was smiling, chatting with both of us.

I asked about his injured ankle and he began to tell us his story, and I asked if it would be weird if we prayed for him. He said it would be fine, yet I wondered of he was just being polite - but I don't always feel like it's right to ask, so I try to go with my gut on these things.  I prayed a simple one-sentence prayer, encouraging Pax to pray with me, "Jesus, please heal Ken's foot, Amen."

Something struck a cord in my boy, because we have been praying for healing a lot these days. Our dear friend Don is Wade's spiritual dad. He officiated at our wedding and baby dedication, and he is family to us. Don has an inoperative brain tumour and it is getting worse every day. We are praying for a miracle for him, as nothing else will suffice at this point. His body is slowing fading along with many other faculties. We grieve each loss, and remain astounded and inspired at Don's joy, his thankfulness, his right priorities, his love for his family and friends, his faith.

Wade trims Don's beard on their last visit together. 

Wade often calls him, "Oh Captain, my Captain."

Pax has made some connection to praying for healing, as he looks at Mr. Ken, sitting on the sidewalk.

"You have a tumour?" he asks.

Ken smiles and says he does not. I explain to Ken that Pax's Papa has a tumour. And I as I do, I begin to tear up a little. And I notice, so does Ken. I am awestruck after 10 years I have finally made a connection with this man, but it's not me, it's Pax.

"Yeah, " Pax continues, "my Papa have a tumour. His brain is hiding."

"His brain is hiding?" I ask, as this is not language anyone else has taught him, but clearly his understanding of what we have said.

"Yeah," he continues, holding his new glo-in-the-dark Lightening Mc Queen and Mater night time pull-ups, noticing the big bus, making conversation, "yeah, his brain is hiding, and we can't find it."

My tears spill over as I look back at Ken, who is also looking back with brimming eyes. "Well, I guess he has been listening," I say, but really I feel like I am learning from Pax, listening to him. That night I will pray that God will help bring Don's brain out of hiding.

And after 10 years of not much connection, Ken struggles to his feet and to my shock, holds out his arms to me, to hug me. On the corner of Slocan and Hastings as everyone passed by, I received his hug, and his assurance that he would be praying for Don. Then the magic moment ended as Pax made a mad dash into the McDonald's and I had to chase him down, but I had felt the Kingdom come.

Oh Don. Come out, come out, wherever you are.