"Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come ..."

Nary a session goes by, she doesn't assure him that she's praying for him. In his humility, he doesn't disdain her prayers. He may even have some confidence in them, in spite of her glib condescension, trusting rather in the One she prays to.

It never entered my head to pray for him. Did he need prayer? He has a loving wife. In nearly ten years of studying the Bible together, if I prayed at all, it regarded what he would do for me in our time: "Please let me learn something important from him tonight ..."

For a period, I supposed he was UU anyway. I thought he'd chosen his path already. I sort of wrote him off as a serious faith companion. He has joked about starting his own church. Even now, he flirts with Judaism.

Maybe Cupid put the desire in my heart to pray, and specifically how, after he revealed some very personal family history. Not just prayer for the eschaton and beyond, about which I'm as certain as a mortal dare be, but in this present life of his as well.

And my confidence increased over the course of a day, that I was correct in this prayer. So sure, I invited others to join me in my prayer for him. The assurance peaked last night during Stations, when we read and answered: blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. He is merciful! He shall receive mercy! Thanks be to God.