With Christmas coming so soon, I’ve been listening to Christmas songs here and there. One stuck out to me the other day when I actually listened to the lyrics. The song, “The Prayer” starts out, “I pray you’ll be our eyes, and watch us where we go…Lead us to the place, guide us with your grace To a place where we’ll be safe.” This song reminded me of an important lesson I learned in an Anglican cathedral in Liverpool, England. Call this my Christmas message.
This incredible cathedral is the largest in England, and the fifth largest in the world. It is fairly new as well, completed only in the 1970’s. Needless to say, it was a beast of a building. Upon entering, I saw a sign professing the purpose of the building—to proclaim Christ. Then, I passed by the coffee stand, the gift shop, a collection of football (soccer) memorabilia, and booths where people sat asking for donations before I finally reached a figure of Christ hanging from a cross far in the back of the cathedral. As I explored this giant church, I found a smaller room with a mural of Christ performing the atonement while the song, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for” ironically played in the background.
Wandering through this huge, dimly-lit structure I felt an uneven mix of awe and disappointment when I came upon a small room tucked back off to the side labeled the “Prayer Room.” Curious, I stepped inside.
The room was deserted. There was a small table with a three-ring notebook of blank white pages in which people were invited to write their prayers. I know I probably shouldn’t have, but curiosity overcame me. I started to read some of them.
I smiled at, “Dear Lord, please help the L.F.C [Liverpool Football Club] win this season,” and, “Dear God, Please help me with my resident application.” I was humbled by the prayers seeking forgiveness and courage to be a better person. The prayer written in a child’s handwriting that ended with, “…and please tell Nanny I miss her,” made me want to pat a little girl on the head and tell her it was alright. She would see her nanny again.
Suddenly, I turned the page and had to choke down the lump in my throat. There it was.
“Dear God, Look after Jackie.”
That’s all it said. It was so short, yet so sincere. It was a desperate plea for a loved one who had reached the end of her rope. I don’t know who Jackie is. And I don’t know why this person felt she needed special help from God, but I felt compassion for the both of them.
I’m confident God heard that prayer. He loves Jackie and I’m certain he gave her a little extra special attention that day.
I wish I could know these people; their ages, where they’re from, their relation to each other and what inspired that pitied request. I know nothing about them, and yet, they touched me. They taught me about the love of God for all of his children, not just the rich or the poor, or just the Mormons or the Catholics, or the just the Americans or the English. They showed me that maybe I should stop thinking so much about myself all the time and should start looking around to help poor Jackie who is struggling.
As I stood in that little prayer room with my heart broken, I said my own little prayer of thanks. Thanks for looking after all of us, just as You look after Jackie. Thanks for loving us all the same, and thanks for giving us what we need just at the right time and in the right place, even if that place is an Anglican Cathedral.
Finally, the parking meter chased me out of that special hiding place tucked away in such a monstrosity of a church. I walked outside a changed person.
And so this Christmas, I pray that God will “be our eyes, and watch us where we go.” Because he looks after all of us, maybe we should try to look after the Jackie’s out there too.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
That was beautiful Julie!
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