ii118 IThe Breeze of the Spirit

don’t change,” she replied. “After reaching a certain chronological maturity they’re stuck with whatever psychological immaturity they may happen to have; they settle into their respective ruts and live out their lives in loneliness, never really understanding themselves or each other, and raising children they do not understand.” Yes, she was sure of it.

I proceeded to my second question: “What do you believe about God?” She didn’t know. She had had two “peculiar experiences.” Twice when she had prayed she seemed to be relieved. Was it possible that God answered prayer?

At this point I clearly remember pushing back from the table and silently praying myself. Then I felt guided to remind her of the biblical injunctions against divorce. As I did this I could see that this made a visible impression upon her.

We talked for about three hours, during which I tried constantly to invoke divine aid. I spoke of changes that had already occurred in the lives of people she knew—dramatic flip-flops from past conduct—unpredictable changes. Then I brought up some of the New Testament miracles. She had always questioned these but agreed with me that, if they had happened, they must always have been performed with prayer. And I told her I had seen other miracles happen today. “God has never stopped intervening in human life,” I insisted. “But He is a polite God. He’s got to be invited in.”

There was a pause. Then, “How do you invite Him in?”

“Through prayer, dedication, and devotion. Prayer can do it.”

About midnight I took her to her car. She thanked me, drove off, and I didn’t hear from her again for nearly seven months. Not a word. But just before Christmas a letter arrived which meant more to me than a $10,000 fee.

It read: “I’m returning the books in the hope that they may help someone else as they did me. . . . Miracles can happen, can’t they? Perhaps some day I’ll have the chance to tell you more about my little private one and thank you as profusely as I should for the impact of that evening last May. I used to wonder why you chose the legal profession. . . . It was a blessing that you did. . .

“Thank you sounds utterly inadequate, but I’ve never said it more reverently. God bless you. Dorothy” I wrote right back to my client, thanked her for writing as she had, and told her I must have more details of her side of the story. She was the only person who