Linda

I was supposed to pray with you. 

Add it to a long list of regrets in my life that come from the moments that I know that God has stirred my heart in a certain direction, but I let my flesh hold me back. My insecurities. My distractions. My expectations. 

God had crossed our paths in the most unexpected of ways. There I was, and there you were, and there was this moment, this sacred moment. I could feel it in my bones. And I let it slip away. 

Or maybe I made it slip away. 

Because there was that nagging in my spirit more than once. I knew I was supposed to pray with you. Or at least offer to pray with you. It kept coming back into my heart, over and over and over again. I kept trying to figure out how I was supposed to bring it up, how I was supposed to make the offer, how I was supposed to guide the moment. 

What I didn't realize until later was that God had already guided the moment. 

And if it was on my heart, it was probably on your heart, too. 

Aside from the sting of knowing my own disobedience, that plagues me most - wondering if you felt it, too. Wondering if you had the same stirring in your heart. Wondering if you knew that I was supposed to pray with you, and if you were just waiting for it. Like a breath of fresh air. Like someone reaching out to hold your hand at just that moment when you needed that physical reassurance. I wonder if you heart knew, just knew, it was coming and if all the hope that you needed in that moment was supposed to come through my feeble words. 

I wonder if you know that I let you down. I wonder if you know that I failed in my faith. 

I wonder if there was something in you that would have called me out on it. 

I wonder...if you were just as hesitant to ask as I was. 

And that's the thing about faith. We can be standing there, two individuals who love and are loved by God, who believe in His good promises, who know His amazing grace, each of us feeling in our hearts that thing that God is doing, that thing that God is about to do, but it takes one of us to take the first step into that holy moment. 

In the case of you and I, it was supposed to be me. And I let too many things stop me. Even one thing would have been too many. 

It is a moment I missed that still lingers in my soul. 

But it lingers as a reminder that I don't want to miss another one. Never again. 

May I embrace the bold kind of faith that follows that still, small voice. That steps out. That interjects into the moment and says, "Hey...." 

Linda, I was supposed to pray with you. I don't know if you know that as profoundly, as certainly, as painfully as I know that, but I'm sorry I didn't. I'm so sorry I didn't.

But I will never let that moment pass me by again.