A sign?

A really strange thing happened to me earlier this week. I came into the office and was greeted by my good pal K. I met K when I first started at Standard over three years ago. We became fast friends as we shared many of the same interests and even some of the same acquintances. K's sister also works at Standard and it just so happens that she is also my boss. It could be awkard except for K and her sister are really not that close. Over the years, we have managed to strike a balance between things we can share and things we should not share.

However, even with that in mind, sometimes I feel myself caught in the middle. On this particular day, that is were I found myself. We meet for breakfast every morning at my desk which is located right next to K's sister.

"Sissy and I are fighting. So I will just meet you in the lobby."

"What now?"

"Oh, she really pissed me off this time."

"I have to hear this. Let's go back to your desk."

A little background about my boss. She is a recent born-again Christian which is great, but lately I am sensing that she is getting dangerously fanatic. She belongs to an interesting church where you don't need formal theology training to be a pastor and people "lay hands" on the sick to heal. She doesn't consider herself lucky, but rather "blessed" when any good thing happens to her. And most recently she gave me a copy of "The Purpose Driven Life" to read and has come to the conclusion that as a result of reading "The Da Vinci Code" I have gone to the "dark side". Enough said?

K is going through a tough time because her 2 year old daughter has a stomach problem that they have been unable to properly diagnose and treat. It has been going on since she was an infant. Desperate to comfort her daughter, she has finally decided to seek advice from the specialists at the children's hospital. Her first appointment was Tuesday last week.

Apparently, her sister had stopped by her desk to find out how things went. After listening patiently for a few moments, she decided to provide her own input. Apparently, as a child, she also suffered from a painful stomach ailment. In fact, it continued to inflict her through adulthood. But after having the hands laid on her, the pain has mysteriously disappeared.

"You need to bring your daughter to our church and have the elders lay hands on her and pray. That is the only way she is going to ever get better."

K's sensibilities felt assaulted. The two were raised in the same God fearing household, but with her sister's recent commitment to this new church, there has been a fundamental parting of opinions. K had recently shared with me that her entire family suspects her sister has been inducted into some kind of religious cult. K considers herself to be a practicing Christian and believes very strongly in the power of prayer. However, she is also a logical person and recognizes the practicality of Western medicine. Needless to say, the two siblings had a falling out for everyone to see. I am sure the scene was equally devastating to my manger, who is much into appearances.

"Wow! Sorry I missed it! But seriously, that is just weird!"

"I know--want to get breakfast?"

There is a small deli down the street that has great smoothies. That is where we go most mornings. It is mostly Standard people, since we get a 50% discount on all beverages there. So most of the faces are familiar. That morning, as we waited for our drinks, an unfamiliar face was seated next to us. K decided on a sour apple "Jet Tea". The drink is bright green like Midori and it excited some interest from the stranger sitting next to us.

"What is that?" the voice slightly slurred, almost too slow.

"It's a Jet Tea."

"Looks good."

At this we can see the mental capacity of this stranger is slightly diminished. While waiting for my smoothie, we begin loosely discussing the details of K's daughter's appointment. After a while, we are interupted by the stranger. This time with more clarity than the first.

"What's wrong with your daughter?"

"She's sick."

"Do you believe in the power of the Lord?"

"Yes."

"Good. You know he can help you right?"

"Yes. I pray for her all the time."

"Do you pray with a congregation?"

"No, I pray for her and my mom prays for her."

"You need to pray with a congregation. Have them lay hands on her. God loves you. He loves your daughter, too."

What the heck? It was almost like someone planted her there. She had no way to know about the conversation we had just had. And what was more surreal, was the clarity with which she spoke to us. Just minutes before her speech was slurred, slow. Just then my drink arrived.

"Thank you."

"Uh, yeah. Thank you."

"God bless you."

I am not a religious person myself, but I will admit, that experience was truly weird. I could tell that K was shaken. The blood had drained from her face and her arms were flush. We spoke about it only briefly because neither one of us really knew how to react. Even I felt the hair on my arms standing on edge. I don't know quite what to make of it, but I can say that I have never experienced anything quite like that before. Was it a sign?