Diane Williams - Angels in Action - Stories to Inspire

He ripped the phone out of the wall and threw it across the room. “Give me my money!” He locked the windows. “You will not leave this room until you give me all my money!”

I heard the Holy Spirit whisper, “ Touch him. ”

I wanted to touch him. As a matter of fact, I wanted to annihilate this belligerent juvenile delinquent. As he towered over me in my locked office, all I could do was pray, but a persistent gumption prompted me to massage his shoulders as I had done so many nights prior. Reluctantly, I touched Andy’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” he said gently, but didn’t pull away.

The Spirit reiterated, “ Touch him. ” My heart melted and I was overwhelmed by tremendous compassion. Somehow I managed to face him, look him squarely in his eyes and placed both hands on his neck; his muscles were tight. Slowly circling his body, I made slow even circles from right to left on his shoulder, and then let my hands glide down his back as I continued to stroke, press, and massage deeper.

“Mrs. Williams, don’t touch me. You cheated on me!” Startled, I dropped my hands to my sides, turned to stare directly into his face. He went on, in a trembling voice, “I thought you liked me. I thought I was special to you. It was all a lie!” He kicked the papers on the floor. “I don’t like it when you massage the other kids. I hate it when you touch them, especially Paul. Every night you read Paul a story and massage him until he falls asleep. That’s not fair! You told me I’m your special young man…and now you treat everyone else just like me.”

Shuddering, I backed away, confused. It was true. The signs were there, but I had ignored them. Scenes flashed through my mind of him putting his arms around my shoulder, not slapping it on like the other kids, but gently. He would rub my shoulder and say how he would protect me. I had ignored it. I didn’t think that it would come down to this. I should have dealt with this before the situation escalated, but now I had to face it. My stomach knotted. How had I allowed him to get so attached and so hurt?

Trying to relax, I pictured myself sitting down at my desk and calmly working it out—if not now, then never. Andy was no longer the monster that had torn apart my office; he was a bruised child. Still, I couldn’t gain my composure; I was too frightened even to pray. Fear took control of me as I ran past Andy, who was now innocently weeping, and out the door. I made the call and he was taken away.

I cancelled on my friends that night. I was convinced that the misunderstanding had hurt him so deeply. Instead of going out, I began to educate myself on how to handle this type of situation—how to respond to a kid who misconstrued agape love for eros love. While agape love is powerful, dynamic, selfless, and sexless; eros love involves passionate, sensual longing. I learned how important it is to distinguish between the two loves by setting parameters.

I called a meeting with my staff to discuss the issue and set up a “rap session” with the boys to air the subject in an attempt to eliminate misunderstandings and avoid future situations.

I will never forget that day. I will never forget Andy. I never saw him again, and I cannot help but wish on that day, in my office, I had had the knowledge and the courage to sit down with him and counsel him, to bring him some kind of closure.

Reflection: Go within and SET BOUNDARIES …therein lies your power. Even selfless love needs boundaries. God sets boundaries to protect us. Therefore, we need to set boundaries in order to protect ourselves as well as others.

With immense trepidation, I parked myself at my kitchen table, hunkering over the checkbook at my right hand and miserably staring at a stack of bills at my left. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure out how to pay my monthly expenses with money I didn’t have. That would require a miracle worker—and I certainly wasn’t one of those. In reality, I was $300 short—the rent was due on Monday and with a sinking feeling I realized today was Wednesday. Things looked bleak.

Then a wonderful thought came to me. Some months earlier my friend Bill had been going through a real rough patch financially. I had been doing okay at the moment so I happily loaned him $500. I trusted that he was good for it and had never mentioned it again. I knew he would repay me when he could. I also knew that things had been going a little better for him recently, so maybe he could repay me. The $500 would pay the rent and help with a few of my other bills. It would be like manna falling from heaven.

I dialed Bill’s number immediately, thrilled that my worries might soon be over. With a cracking voice he managed to answer, “Hello?” I instantly knew something was wrong.

“Bill, it’s Diane.”

He sighed. “I got a phone call earlier this morning. My mother passed away in the night.”

“Oh, Bill,” I said, “I’m so terribly sorry.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I was just packing. I have to catch a plane this afternoon.”

I said, “I should let you go.”

Bill asked, “Why’d you call? Did you need something?”

I couldn’t ask for the money, not now. “I just called to say hello. I was just thinking about you, that’s all. I’m so very, very sorry for the loss of your mother. I know how much you loved her.”

“Thank you, Diane,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I’ll talk with you when I get home in a few days.”

I was about to hang up when he said, “Diane?”

“Yes?”

“Could you call Joan for me?” he said. “Please ask her to pray for me and my family as we go through this trial.”

“I will,” I said. “Take care, Bill.”

I hung up. “His mom is dead! My bank account is dead!” I said aloud. I popped out of my seat, ran to my bed and beat my pillow. Not only was I defeated but also guilt ridden, I felt less than a penny about focusing on my own needs while Bill was going through this awful sadness. But facts are facts—and that rent deadline drew ever closer.

I looked up Joan’s number. Bill had good reasons to want me to speak with her. Among my friends no one better understood the power of prayer than Joan. Frequently people who had gone to her for guidance, shared their life changing ways—long lost spouses uniting with the family, addicts winning over their addictions, and many other life changing miracles. After I passed on to her Bill’s prayer request, which she promised to fulfill, I explained my own dilemma. Before I knew it, we had talked for more than a half an hour.

“Tell me about your own prayer experience,” Joan said.

I didn’t know exactly how to respond. I had long been a Christian and of course I prayed now and then—doesn’t everybody? But prayer experience—I wasn’t really sure what she meant by that.

Joan said, “Prayer isn’t just something we do at bedtime—asking God to bless our family members, or hoping to get a raise at work, or a better grade at school—it’s a dialogue with God to ask him to invoke his power into us so that our situations can change. So our lives can change. Prayer establishes the plan of God. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” I said, but I really didn’t.

Joan continued. “Our prayers are most effective when we pray and get out of God’s way,” she said. I thought hard about that. I wanted what she had. I listened closely, willing to do whatever she said so that I too could have this personal ongoing encounter with God. As she continued to describe her process of effective scriptural prayer, I began jotting down notes. I was going to follow her instructions to the tiniest detail.