Chapter two

At our weekly church potluck, Alice[1] became absolutely frantic. She had placed her wedding ring on the splash board while doing the dishes and when she went to put it back on, it was gone. All other activities came to a screeching halt as everyone began looking for her ring. When it couldn’t be found, she assumed it had gone down the drain. (Negative person that I am, I assumed someone had stolen it. Childhood memories, I guess.)

The following Sunday morning she expressed her sentimental attachment for the ring and asked that it be put on a “prayer chain.” (She must have figured something else, too.)

Two weeks later her father-in-law was standing under a church doorway that had been designed for a sliding door. He was talking with a group of friends (after another potluck) when someone asked if the ring had been found. “No, it hasn’t,” he replied. At that precise moment something bounced off the top of his head and fell to the floor with an obvious metallic sound. “What in the world,” he said, looking down at his feet.

As soon as he began talking about it, it had somehow fallen out of the door frame, bounced off his head and fell to the floor.

Would the ring have been found in such a manner if she had not asked for prayer? I don’t know for sure, but I rather doubt it. I do know that no prayer ever goes unheeded, even though I don’t believe that all prayers are answered. Prayer is the only way we have of reaching out to God. And when God answers, the rare and unusual is bound to happen.

Prayers are usually answered in the same manner Ralph performed his tricks for Joyce¾naturally, quietly, unobtrusively and unremarkably. Sometimes, however, the answers seem to just drop out of the blue, land on our heads and clatter at our feet.

As I look back over my life it is plain that time after time things happened that completely defied the odds, some of which are written about in this book. It takes retrospective recognition because they occurred in such a natural manner that it appears as though nothing out of the ordinary occurred.

Sylvia, my wife, tells of this type of experience when she wanted to quit smoking. She was trying to quit because she was pregnant and she knew smoking was not good for the unborn child. Unfortunately, the nicotine grip was too strong and she found she couldn’t. After many successive attempts had failed, one night while she was taking a shower, in her frustration she began to cry and wailed out to God, “You’ll have to do it for me. I can’t.”

It was two days later when she was at a party that she realized she had neither smoked nor had a craving since her shower. That was approximately fifty five years ago and she hasn’t smoked since. It was so complete and natural that she didn’t even realize she’d quit. I call that miraculous even though she didn’t even realize it had happened…at least not for a couple of days.

That’s the way most miracles work. But, in my own life there have been two times when it was impossible to mistake what happened for mere coincidence. And both times were in response to prayer. The first time occurred in 1973 when I was a very lonely and miserable man. At the time I was a bachelor father with no social life. In my lonely desire for company, I would sometimes go to the mall just to be near people. This was usually the Eastridge Mall in San Jose, California. I had discovered that even being with strangers passing by would often be enough to elevate my spirits. Such was the case one afternoon when my kids were in school and I found myself heading for Eastridge. (At that time I worked evenings, so my afternoons were free.)

Once there I walked along searching each face for a friendly smile or nod—anything that might indicate I was a real person. This day, however, it didn’t seem to be working. Everyone appeared to be wrapped up in their own personal worlds, totally oblivious to all the others around them. There were no smiles, no nods, no nothing; it was as though I didn’t exist. My loneliness not only continued to prevail, it became totally overwhelming.

Instead of feeling better, I became even more despondent. Finally, after twenty or thirty minutes, I made a decision. I was going home, place the barrel of my shotgun under my chin, point it up through my brain and pull the trigger.

Once this decision was made, I turned and headed for the exit. As I walked towards the doors several things were going on: my body felt cold all over, it was all I could do to keep from crying, and I was praying. I remember that my prayer went something like this: “God I know suicide is an unpardonable sin. I’m sorry to be such a disappointment to you, but I just can’t take anymore.”

At that point I was abruptly grabbed by both shoulders and spun around. Startled out of my despondency, I looked around to see who had grabbed me.

Being forcefully jerked around like that actually made me laugh. As I stood there, unexpectedly facing back into the mall, I thought, “All right, if I’m not supposed to commit suicide, I won’t.” (Seems like a trite thought, now. It’s true, though, I remember it vividly).

I walked back towards the center of the mall and over to the balcony of the second floor. Below me a large group of people had gathered, many of whom were dressed in various types of costumes and makeup, while others appeared to be judges, officials or people in charge. The various costumes ranged from western paraphernalia, to tights, to formal attire. I had arrived just in time to watch a competitive exhibition being staged by the various dance studios in the area. The contestants ranged from about two years old to elderly adult.

That afternoon I watched every type of dancing imaginable, from ballet to clogging, from tap to waltzing. The dancers abilities varied from the awkwardly young beginners to the fantastically graceful old pros. One thing they all had in common, though; was that each did his very best. I watched from above, totally enthralled, for at least an hour, maybe even two. In becoming so immersed in the performances, my black mood disappeared completely—all but the memory.

For years I wondered why I was prevented from committing suicide when so many others before (and since) had succeeded. Then one day I knew the answer. Two things happened, the first of which was that part of my depression was caused by spiritual confusion.[2] In itself, that might not have been enough, I don’t know. But, secondly, as I left the mall I was praying.

In my confused state of mind I had unwittingly plugged right into the KSC. My prayer was simply an apology for being a disappointment. Expecting nothing, I received the miracle of being turned around by invisible hands.

The Kindred Spirit Connection works for anyone. There is no training and there is nothing to memorize. The only requisite appears to be the potential to recognize goodness and a willingness to let it happen. The word “potential” is an important distinction. Many hard core criminals have turned their lives around because they had “potential.” One of the most vivid depiction’s of this was in the movie, Pulp Fiction, where two hoods were part of the same miracle. One hood (Samuel Jackson) recognized that a miracle had occurred and changed his life because of it. He said he didn’t know what he was going to be looking for but he was going to start walking and searching until he found it. The other man (John Travolta) refused to see the miracle and, instead, laughed at his friend’s superstition. In real life, this same potential was to be found on the cross at Calvary. When Christ was hung between two thieves, one recognized the goodness beside him and it changed his life. (Talk about a “last minute” save.) The other derided Jesus.

All of us have a belief in the supernatural, call it God, call it Tao, call it the Universal way. This spark of belief in that which is beyond us is what makes us superstitious, religious or pious. Some people are able to ignore this spark completely, while others take it to extremes. All who heed this spark tend to reach out in prayer. Some reach out often¾several times a day—or even all day¾while others reach out only sporadically¾once a year or less. But, each time we reach out in prayer we become a tiny-tad more spiritual.

I’ve heard it said that every life is given at least one opportunity to discover God. If that’s the case, then every life will have at least one eye-opening miracle to demonstrate this. Whether or not we recognize it when it happens appears to vary with every individual¾as in Pulp Fiction.

Prayer is the foundation spirituality is built on. It is the building blocks through which we begin to lay the foundations of our belief. Through prayer we are able to discover God in any guise we are capable of recognizing. In Tehran that would be Islam, in America and Europe it would be Christianity or Judaism.

Paradoxically, it is belief that leads us to pray, but praying is fundamental in finding that belief. I suspect that to believe in a god and not pray is impossible.[3] Even if our prayers are the half-hearted, “I’ll pray, but I don’t think it’ll do any good,” type of prayers.

Every prayer appears to be answered and responded to except one specific type: self-centered prayers for self-aggrandizement or domination of others. Even these are heard, but not acted on, because God is incapable of loving one person over another.

The entire process of entering the Family of God by becoming earthly kindred spirits, begins with prayer. Those who open themselves through prayer are, little by little, becoming cosmically aware on an inner, unconscious level. (Albeit this awakening may be painfully slow.) Once this is accomplished, God begins working with each of us by slowly guiding us into greater spiritual thinking and understanding. We are slowly becoming Kindred Spirits with God.

On entering the Kindred Spirit Family things begin to happen. We find ourselves being moved in and out of people’s lives. We find we offer things to people just when they need it, whether it be advice, money or just your company. Everything being reciprocal, in turn you will find you receive the help you need when you need it. It is not uncommon for veritable strangers to give us the help we need exactly when we need it the most—as with my jeep—without realizing they’ve done anything special or out of the ordinary. It’s a sort of “bail out.” We’ve reached the end of our rope; we don’t know what to do and, wallah! We get bailed out by receiving the help we need just when we need it.

Prayer is neither a placebo nor a means of escaping the rigors of everyday life. Praying won’t make all our problems miraculously disappear. We can still get sick. If we spend our money foolishly, we will still got broke. But it is the cornerstone on which we build the spiritual structure of our lives. It is our only means of reaching out and connecting with that which is beyond us. And, in some manner, it also mysteriously fills our inner being with new meaning, adding richness to our lives. Through prayer we get the power and strength we need to continue on when all seems hopeless. And, when it really is hopeless and we just can’t go on any further, sometimes we even get that little extra help from unseen hands.

9. He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10. "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, "God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' 13. But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!' 14. I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted." (NRSV)

Spirituality without prayer is impossible because prayer is our spiritual connection. It is the way we express ourselves to God. A prostitute asking for forgiveness and help is being far more spiritual than a priest who prays out of habit, not at all, or self-righteously. (See inset.)

“God, I don’t know how to pray” may just be one of the most effective and important prayers of all, for it is the one which opens the floodgates of spiritual receptivity and establishes a spiritual connection between us, God and the Universe. The important thing is to keep the floodgate open by continuing to pray on a regular basis, not just when we need help. And, each time we pray, it becomes a little easier.

It is our thoughts, attitudes and desires that God hears when we pray, not our words. It is not necessary to break into our version of the King James English. Just talk like you would to a friend. When you pray in this manner, before long you’ll find yourself just gabbing away with God. Next thing you know, you’re driving down the road and somebody cuts you off, and you find yourself saying, “God, did you see that SOB?” This is a form of praying in a truly natural and informal way with your friend and constant companion, God.

Prayer should become spontaneous and not just something we do only when we’re depressed, lonely, broke, or want something. Even if we merely say “Thanks for the fine day, God.” Or, “Jesus! What a bitch of a day. What the hell happened, anyway?” (Make sure to listen for an answer.)

Many people will take offense at prayer that includes swearing. But it’s not just the pure of speech that God loves. If swearing is a natural part of your speech patterns, why be phony with God? He’s been with us all our life (even if we haven’t been with him) and knows what we’re really like anyway, so just be natural. We are who we are and God accepts us that way. He meets us where we are. If that’s the manner in which we speak to our friends, that’s the way we should talk to God. To do otherwise is to be phony by disguising who we are behind our words. Nothing that is natural is offensive to God. Man we may offend, God is far more tolerant and forgiving. This is not license to be vulgar. Just be natural.

Remember that we’re not alone in the universe. This means we’re not the only children of God. Praying, which tends to make us more spiritual, also tends to draw us into a much larger family of kindred spirits. On a universal scale, we’re on the bottom, God’s on the top, and there’s a whole mess of others in the middle. Joining this family starts with a single step, talking to God. Often, like my own story in the mall, out of despair, loneliness and confusion.

[1] Not her real name.

[2] The reason for my lonliness was because all my friends were part of a religious cult I had believed in ardently, but had dropped out of due to disillusionment.

[3] I recently heard on public radio that a poll taken of atheists revealed that even most of them admitted to praying in emergencies.