I believe in the power of prayer. 

The word “believe” is appropriate here since I haven’t seen enough evidence to move it from that column to the “know” column. However, something happened last week that is definitely nudging me towards “know.” 

I misplaced my keys on Wednesday. Now, I know that hardly sounds unusual, but I don’t misplace keys; I’m very good about putting them in the same place every time I’m done using them. 

I started freaking out a bit because I don’t have a spare key to my car. It’s an electronic key, and electronic keys are expensive to replace, and since I no longer had the original, programming one from scratch would be even more costly. My mechanic thought a visit to the dealer to replace it could well exceed $500. For a key! 

What was particularly maddening was that I knew exactly when and where I had them last, so I checked all the pockets of the clothes I was wearing and retraced my steps across the community to our mailbox, sweeping the sidewalk with the beam of my flashlight. Nada. 

Thursday, I got on the phone with a sales prospect and told him of my key problem. He wasn’t just any prospect, however. The news brief we published about the opening of his business two years ago holds the unbeatable record of most clicks on a news brief in the first month. Popular briefs receive 20 to 30 clicks. His received 900!

I checked out his social media sites and noticed he wasn’t publicizing our news brief, so I called him to ask how in the world that was happening. He professed ignorance, and furthermore, he reported that his new website received 10,000 pageviews in the first month. What?!? Natural Awakenings website has never come close to that; 7,200 is our record. While it’s easy to think it’s bots, he simply remarked: “I try to be a good person, and I say my prayers.” 

Anyway, in last week’s conversation, I told him about my lost keys. He took about five seconds to say a little prayer, which ended with something like, “…and may Paul find his keys right away.” 

After the call, I made some coffee. While preparing it, I thought how nice it was of him to offer that prayer. And then I offered one of my own. As soon as I finished, I walked over to my large bookcase, opened a drawer, and there they were. 

Here’s the really interesting thing, though. I did not have the thought: “Go to that drawer to look for your keys.” On the other hand, I had consciously, repeatedly, opened many drawers the previous night, knowingly, purposefully, looking for those keys. I had looked in the creases of my couch even though I hadn’t sat on it; I had gone through my garbage. I had even looked in my refrigerator. All in an intentional manner. 

But not this final act. In fact, if anything, it felt as if I had given up control of my body. I had no idea where I was walking to. And even as my hand reached out for the drawer handle, I didn’t think that the keys might be there. It was, to be sure, very weird. 

Actually, the only other time that I felt as if some entity had taken over my body was far more dramatic. My partner and I attended an Atlanta Friends Meeting— aka Quakers—in the late 90s. Friends worship in silence, waiting for Spirit to descend upon them, and if the Spirit so moves a worshipper, that person stands and delivers a spoken message, and many times, the speaker trembles. Thus, “Quakers.”

It seemed to me that many, if not most, of those who spoke had come prepared to speak. But then, it happened. One day, before I knew it, without having even one thought of speaking, I was standing up. I distinctly remember the shock of discovering that I was rising from my seat without having made the decision to do so. And I started speaking. And indeed, I was quaking. What dark magic was this that forced me to stand and speak about who knows what? 

After the service, I shared this experience with a Friend, telling him that I did not decide to speak—that it was as if my being had been hijacked for someone else’s purpose. Well, that’s how Spirit works, he explained; someone needed to hear whatever it was I spoke about. 

Yes, I believe in the power of prayer. A few more episodes like these two, however, and I will no longer have to rely on mere belief. ❧

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