I Prayed for What? | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: I Prayed for What? | Previous Challenge Entry
By Genia Gilbert
08/26/08
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Roberta is my friend, really dependable, steadfast and true. A deeply committed Christian, she has remarkable insight into people, including me. My dramatic, serious nature and her knack of viewing most everything as funny, have made our experiences more than interesting.

We had attended the same church for years, then together we joined a ladies’ week-day Bible study. This really strengthened the bond between us.

The thing about Roberta - Bert, for short - is that she is so terribly honest! This trait has threatened our relationship more than once. I mean, it’s okay to tell the truth, of course, but is it really necessary for her to be so straightforward that I can feel my insides being unveiled?

For instance, yesterday I stared into her wide brown eyes and related the events of my week. I was beaten down with life, and looking for sympathy. That’s what friends are for, right?

“First,” I said, “Monday, I went to the bank to open a small savings account, then transfer funds into it from another account. Simple transaction, I thought. The teller said that they no longer do that at the window, and I would need to see Mr. Knows-his-Stuff at another desk. Mr. Knows-his-Stuff , of course, was busy, and could I please take a seat?”

‘Twenty minutes later, a lady came across the lobby, offering to help me at a desk in the far corner of the bank, so I followed Ms. Helpful gladly. Once there, I explained my mission, and she happily began processing the simple information onto her monitor. Almost immediately, she noted that things were not up to speed, and asked Mr. C. Nerd at the next desk for assistance. He launched into a torrent of technological jargon that gave me a headache, and thirty minutes later, I left them still discussing the problem. I was escorted back to Mr. Knows-his-Stuff, who transacted my business with no mention of my inconvenience.”

“Never mind, Bert, that this is a bank we’ve used for thirty years!” I finished on a sarcastic note and caught my breath.

“On Wednesday, my doctor’s office called and moved an appointment to a date that conflicted with a really important meeting. When I objected, I was told by Nurse Coldvoice that this was the only time Dr. Busy had available for several weeks, and it would be much better if I just came at that time. Implying that I was being difficult, she only vaguely alluded to the fact that the change was all their idea!”

“Then, get this, Bert: Friday morning, Aunt Addie dropped by for a visit. She only comes about every six months, to catch up on all our family news. The worst part is that she’s so unhappy in the retirement home, and continually recounts all the ‘hateful’ things that the staff and other residents say and do. Honestly, Bert, I know she’s my mother’s sister, that she’s lonely, and all that, but I was almost at my wit’s end. I managed to fix us a quick sandwich, and took her for a walk in the park. Then after she left, I collapsed on the couch and took a long nap.”

“Bert, how could all this happen to me this week? Last Thursday’s Bible study on “Patience” really touched me, and I asked God just to give me more. So what’s up?”

Surely this meltdown would elicit pity and kind words from my best friend. Instead, I thought I saw... no, I did see a twinkle in her eye, and the beginning of a smile. That developed into a chuckle, then an outright bellylaugh.

“Sara, you are such a goose,” Bert laughed. “Did you remember those verses we’re supposed to memorize?”

“Do I sound like I’ve had a lot of time to practice Bible passages?” I almost shouted. I was really getting mad now.

Bert pulled a three by five card from her purse and read “...but we glory in tribulations also, knowing that tribulation worketh patience;” (Romans 5:3 KJV).

“Don’t you see, Sara, you really prayed for tribulation?”

“I prayed for what?!!”

“Yep,” Bert replied, then giggled, “and you got what you asked for. But you still have a problem with that ‘worketh patience’ part. Maybe I need to pray that for you next week.”

“Yeah, right, Bert. Right. You do that...”

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