Blessings from a Saint

She took me to the town's tiny main street, lined with old buildings. There, tucked away across from the homey-looking coffee shop, was the potters' store. She visits them on a nearly weekly basis, my friend does, to fellowship with them, to encourage, and to be encouraged.

Their store is modest, comfortable, and neat. The front room runs directly into their work area. Two large rooms are adjoined to create their workspace. This is where they create, teach, make their livelihood, and minister.

They are a sweet couple. He is tall and lean, with bushy white hair and beard surrounding kind eyes. He speaks softly, but with words that express kindness and caring. He is a gentle man. She is a quiet woman, shorter. She doesn't say much, but her eyes sparkle and dance with life. Her eyes reflect the joy of her Creator.

The four of us chat briefly, then he gives me a tour of the little shop. When we finish, he and my friend begin a new conversation while I browse through their creations. A customer comes in. She is greeted with a warm and friendly welcome.

As I am gazing at the shelves, he approaches me and places a piece of pottery in my hand. He holds it in my hand and begins to speak. My friend backs away to give us this moment. I look down into my hand. There he has placed a small heart, with the word "pure" etched in blue.

He speaks kind words, words that come from a heart tender and sensitive to the Spirit inside. He looks deeply into my eyes and shares this joy and encouragement with me. I have no words to offer in return. But our eyes speak to each other and say all there is.

As we prepare to leave, he gives me a second stone. This one bears the word "restore." He tells me I am to give it to a patient of mine, to tell them that their heart is being restored as well as their body.

Then he places his arm around my shoulders and says he would like to pray for me. His wife comes over to complete our circle of four. He prays for me, over me, in ways I haven't heard anyone pray for me before. He ends, and I look up at the people surrounding me. Friends - old and new - smiling with tears in their eyes. Friends who love me and desire to bless me with the love of Jesus.

I am blessed.