After I fell and broke the C1 in my neck, the doctor told my wife it was a “hangman’s break” from which most people die or are paralyzed for life.   I found myself in a neck brace, plastered flat on a hospital bed and poked with a hundred different tubes.  My vision was locked in upright position, so couldn’t turn to see the myriad of beeping monitors that flashed near my head.

My mind drifted back and forth from prayer to sleep and back to prayer.   Every time I woke I wiggled my toes and thanked God for loving me so much.  My God, my Mighty Warrior, My Savior, My King, My Healer, My Father who loves me so much.

I knew that many people were praying for me, and I knew that God’s angels had kept me safe.  But there was one thing I still wanted more than anything else – and that was someone who would just hold my hand and pray with me.

Hold my hand.  And pray with me.

At 3AM the night nurse, a man from Nigeria who spoke broken English, came into my room.  He had to stand with his face directly over mine just so I could see him.  He introduced himself, then turned off the lights and sat next to me and held my hand while we praised God in prayer.

I will always remember this man who became God’s angel on earth.  He held my hand and prayed with me when I needed it the most.  It was an example of God’s big and amazing power – brought to me in such a little and gentle way.

How about you.  Who is someone you know who is scared?  Lonely.  Discouraged.  Worried?

Let’s ask God for big courage to do a little thing.   To hold their hands and pray with them.