Hope and Transformation: A Life-Changing Moment with a Stranger
If you know us, you will know that throughout the summer and fall we pitch our art tent at various festivals to sell our soap and silk. Art festivals are often relaxed places where people stroll, window shop and stop in to chat. At least 10 years ago we had set up our tent at Mantua Ohio “Art on the Hill” on a hot July Saturday. We set up our soap rack, and crates of shave soap, and all of our offerings. Now you have to know that both Steve and I are committed Christians, but there is nothing in our booth that would identify that fact. So that was why this encounter was startling and made such an impact on us. An older man, perhaps early 70s stepped into our tent, was looking intently at our soap, but seemed to be mustering his courage to talk with us. Just as he would look like he was going to say something someone else would step into the tent, and it seemed to spook him off. He came in and out of the tent for perhaps an hour and the last time he was scared off by other customers we both decided we would make more attempt to engage him if he came back.
He returned and as we chatted with him we realized this guy was wrestling with a long life of doing wrong to family and friends, alcoholism, and other unacceptable behavior. It had all caught up to him. He had hit the bottom, and was now looking for God’s help to turn everything around. He told us he knew that we would pray with him. So we did. A prayer circle in the middle of an art festival is not a common sight, but it got more interesting. A family (husband, wife and 3 kids) joined us, as did another couple. We prayed with the guy, sensing that he was comforted to know his prayers of reconciliation and peace would come true. As we ended prayer we looked up, and those families just disappeared… not melting into the crowd, just gone. The street was only 2 blocks, and you could see each end of the festival… no sign of them. While we cant know, perhaps they were angels. And the guy we prayed with came back to several other art events in the area that year but we never heard from him after that. He did tell us about a month after our prayer that his wife was talking with him, and his grown daughter was willing to make peace with him.
Yet we are still mesmerized by the thought that of the 75 tents filled with artists he would circle around to us and ask us to pray for him. It was an intense honor, and a reminder that we all need each other. Sometimes it is a stranger that wakes us to our purpose.
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