I saw him shuffle out of the grocery store, holding a cane, and stop to lean against some metal posts there by the entrance. He wasn't looking at much in particular, just resting. Then he started to move slowly toward his car. His was parked in the closest handicapped stall. He was so slow that I was able to move my car to a closer spot before getting out to talk to him.
The man was in his 70s, with white hair and a white beard. Until now, he probably would have been considered a big man, with wide shoulders and powerful arms. But age had taken root, and his days of mobility appeared to be about over. He was holding a single plastic bag, full of bananas, and was getting ready to put them into the back of the car when I reached him.
"Hello, sir," I said. He turned slightly toward me but kept rearranging a single file box and a single newspaper in the back of his car. "What can I do for you?" he asked in a deep old voice. I told him I wanted to pray for him. He didn't look at me this time. "I already did that myself," he said gruffly. "Well," I replied, "I'd like to offer you a prayer as well today." He kept moving things around in his trunk. "You can do whatever you want," he said, "it's a free country." I'd heard that before and was glad for it, but he clearly didn't want me around, so I offered him an out. "Well do you want me to pray for you right now or do you want me to leave you alone?" To this, he was clear. He mumbled a few words I couldn't understand and then said "Leave me alone."
He still hadn't put his bananas in his car when I turned from him. I prayed when I left that God would restore health to his legs in such away that there would be no mistaking to him or others about what the Healer had done.
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