“I Will Pray for You!”
A reflection by Rev. Dr. Frank J. Richardson, Jr.
Rev. Dr. Richardson is a Licensed Psychologist and Retired Elder of the United Methodist Church.
Then the little children were brought to Jesus for Him to place His hands on them and pray for them. And the disciples rebuked those who brought them. But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them! For the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14-15)
Over forty years ago, somewhere between the ages of fourteen to sixteen years old, I pedaled my Raleigh three-speed bicycle from my home in nearby Oakmont to the St. Raphaela Center. Our family passed this place many times by car, whether on a trip to the dentist or to Bryn Mawr Hospital or further points west. It was the quickest shortcut to be found. I also had friends who lived in the area. As our car went by the driveway leading to the Center, I would steal a glance. If I blinked, I would miss it. The trees and shrubbery did not cooperate much either, as they obscured my view. I knew there was something religious or spiritual going on at this place, but there were few clues to be found. I asked my parents about the Center, but their answers fell short, while my inquisitive nature only grew. Was it a convent, a retreat center or both? What do they do there all day? Do people live there? Do they get along with each other? Questions kept coming as most kids are inclined to do. It did not take long for me to want to learn more about this place.
I was ready. I didn’t tell or even ask my parents if it was okay to go. This was going to be a covert, solo operation. I assumed they would have said “no,” if I told them of my plans or likely would have asked me why I would do such a thing or tell me it simply wasn’t safe to ride my bike such a long distance from my home. I kept my intentions to myself. I wanted to avoid any sort of debate as to the pros and cons of making this trip. I didn’t want my plan to be spoiled. It was a secret. No one was to know that I was planning to go to the Retreat Center and learn first-hand what I could about it.
It was a summer afternoon when I made my way to the Center. I knocked on the front door. Before it opened, I suddenly realized that I had no idea what I was going to say or how to explain why I was there, other than having an eagerness to have some of my questions answered. I did not have a prepared speech. No script for what to say. I was new and inexperienced at knocking on someone’s door, introducing myself and rather boldly and innocently asking them what exactly went on within their home. Just as the door was slowly opening, I paused, wondering if I should hide, run or maybe come back another day. The decision was quickly made for me. The sister stood there on the other side of the door asking me how she might help. Her smile made me feel a little bit less anxious. I was being welcomed.
Little do we know when certain moments in life will be etched in our memories forever. This was going to be one of those days. I did not anticipate it. I didn’t even know at the time it was something that would never be forgotten. I am certain that the sister had no idea either of the profound impact our conversation would have on me, but it has. After responding to my litany of questions and kindly and patiently offering answers to each of my inquiries, the sister told me that at 5pm she would be with the others at the Retreat Center for worship. It is what they did every day. It was a prayer service. Then, she added a benediction of sorts to our exchange: “I will pray for you at 5pm today.”
“I will pray for you!” No one ever said such a thing to me. No one. I am sure people prayed for me, but this was the first time such intervention was made known to me. It totally caught me off-guard. I fumbled for what to say in response. I didn’t have words. I left in the same manner that she greeted me and that was with a smile. It was a sacred, holy, transformational moment. I went home. Sat with my family at dinner and found comfort when the clock struck 5pm. Something changed. I not only felt a connection to this stranger who was talking to God on my behalf; but also, I felt that God had grown nearer to me as well.
It has been a long time since that day. What I learned never left me. There is power in prayer. It can be life-changing. Knowing that someone was praying for me, I was changed that day. And so, when I became the first oncology chaplain at The Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, I created The Intensive Prayer Unit (IPU). I knew patients would benefit from prayer. I did. The genesis of this program is directly tied to that first experience I had at the St. Raphaela Center when someone prayed for me. The IPU is the name for a unique relational dynamic between patients and “prayer-givers” that is based on intercessory prayer. Patients, diagnosed with cancer and receiving treatment at Hopkins, who want daily prayers on their behalf, are invited into the IPU, where prayer-givers from various faith communities in the Baltimore area will pray for them.
It has been said that the world can be changed one person at a time. I believe that to be true. Countless patients have been helped because someone once said to me: “I will pray for you.”
With gratitude,
Rev. Dr. Frank J. Richardson, Jr.
St. Raphaela Center is a place of prayer, where many come to pray for others, bringing their needs before God. If you have a prayer request, contact us at prayers@straphaelacenter.org or 610-642-5715.