My friend’s daughter was battling a life-threatening infection. All we could do was pray…

The ringing phone woke me up. It was my friend Theresa, whose premature baby had been in the hospital for two months with a life-threatening infection. Little Bonnie had been doing well, so Theresa and her husband Steve, were spending some much needed time at home.

Now Theresa was on the verge of panic: “The doctor called. Bonnie’s heart keeps stopping. Can we pray together?” I took a deep breath. “Lord, take our hands as we pray for Bonnie. We know your promise: Where two are gathered in your name, you are there.”

On the other end a gentle male voice joined in, his quiet, steady words mingling with mine. I had seen Steve at the hospital, his head bowed over the incubator while trying to will strength into his tiny daughter.

As I prayed, I couldn’t hear Theresa, only Steve, speaking with me almost in sync. It was as if he knew what I was going to say before my mouth shaped the words. When we finished; together, precisely; I said, “Theresa, grab Steve’s hand.”

“Steve’s not here,” she said quickly. “I’ll call you from the hospital.” “Then who -- ?” I started to ask, but she had hung up. The next day, Theresa reported the infection had disappeared overnight. The baby was going to be okay.

“But who was on the line with us last night?” I asked Theresa, puzzled. “Nobody. Steve was out on repair calls. You and I prayed alone.” No, I thought. Where two are gathered in his name…