With Freddie Arnold accompanying the “Unlimited Partnership” members on a get-acquainted trek to Jackson, MS, Nashville, TN, and Alpharetta, GA, the office was much less busy than normal. Freddie’s grandson, Zac, who was born with spinal bifida and is now perhaps 16 years old, had emergency surgery Tuesday night at Children’s Hospital, and was much on our hearts this week.

I spoke at Florida Boulevard Baptist Church in Baton Rouge on Thursday, was interviewed on Moody radio on Friday morning as a result of a recent blog titled “Tolerance and Faithfulness,” and Saturday afternoon, attended the rededication of Poydras Baptist Church, beautifully redone since Katrina. Seminary students are arriving in the city daily and many are calling for appointments to bring their resumes by, wanting to be considered by churches looking for pastors or staffers. Tuesday night, I “worked” at a neighborhood meeting as a part of the national “night out against crime,” and on Saturday night, attended the New Orleans Zephyrs Triple-A baseball game against the Roundrock Express, with my son and grandchildren.

Easily, the high point of my week was four prayers.

On Tuesday, at a pastors luncheon at Victory Fellowship Church called to emphasize the need for prayer for New Orleans, I bumped into Ralph Neighbour, one of God’s great warriors. This man has literally impacted millions of lives for Christ, all over the world, but principally in Asia. As we embraced and caught each other up on our lives, he said, “Joe, let me pray for you.” And there in that crowded dining hall, with people coming and going, we moved in close and he lifted me to the Father in as sweet and powerful a few minutes as I have ever known.

Wednesday afternoon, I drove down to Children’s Hospital to call on Zac Johnston and his family. I drew for him, for all his nurses, and for his friend, another Zach with spinal bifida, who had been banished to the waiting room. Before leaving I returned to the room to have prayer with Zac and walked in just as a visitor was leaning over, about to pray with him and his grandmother Elaine. She said, “Come on, Brother Joe. Mary is praying for us.”

Mary’s prayer might have been the high point of my week. This African-American lady–I’m unsure whether she is a volunteer or an employee of the Children’s Hospital–lifted us to the throne. Wish I’d had a tape recorder. She quickly moved into a gentle version of the sing-song pattern we identify with some black preachers, praying for this and that, repeatedly intoning “in the name of Jesus.” Then, she did battle with the enemy, calling out, “And if the devil has plans for this child, cancel them! If the forces of darkness have plans, cancel them! If the angels of hell have plans, cancel them!” And on and on. She was not brief, but I could have listened to her for an hour.

Thursday morning, enroute to Baton Rouge, I chose to drive up to Hammond and take Interstate 12 into the capital city. Approaching Hammond, I thought, “No doubt Lonnie Wascom has a fresh pot of coffee at his office.” Lonnie is my counterpart, the director of missions for the North Shore Associations, and his office is one block off the interstate. Fortunately, he was in, and was his usual ebullient self. (Note to Ginger: That means “extremely enthusiastic.”) We chatted a few minutes, and he made the mistake of asking about a particular personal matter, which I will not go into here. So I told him; he’s such a terrific listener. As I was about to leave, he said, “Let me pray for you.”

And brother, did he. I had the overwhelming sensation that the Lord was in the room and Lonnie was addressing Him as a close friend. So tender, so powerful, so comforting.

Later, I found out that the prayer he prayed–the same one I have been praying–was mostly answered two days earlier.

Then, the fourth prayer.

Louis Boyd is the senior adult minister at Florida Boulevard Baptist Church and possibly the most popular man of God in the city. We first met some a few years ago when they asked me to do a senior adult revival in that church. I have treasured this friend ever since, for many reasons, but one in particular. Louis has cancer. His is a particularly mean version of cancer, the kind that doctors still do not know what to do about, and to hear them tell it, Louis has been living on borrowed time for four or five years.

As I was loading my easel and drawing materials in the car for the return trip, I asked him to walk outside and bring me up to date on his situation. Louis is now in the stage where no medicines are having any effect. He heads to the National Cancer Institute in Bethesda this week.

But you’d never know it by looking at him. The most up-beat, positive, more-than-overcoming brother you will ever encounter. “God has used my terminal cancer to bring a number of people to Christ,” he said. Most recently, he shared with a woman who was afflicted with a complaining spirit. Nothing was going to suit her, she had all these aches and pains, the doctors were failures, her problems were the most urgent on the planet. He mentioned that he would miss seeing her for a few days, that he has to go to Washington, D.C., and she asked why. So, he told her.

I said, “That’s a conversation stopper, Louis.” Someone is belly-aching and suddenly they find out you have terminal cancer and you’re not complaining. It turned around the conversation with that lady and gave him a great opportunity to share his faith in Christ.

I said to him, “Let’s pray.” Of the four blessed prayers this week, the ones that made my week, this one I prayed.

All I can say is that it blessed me immensely. The Holy Spirit did the praying while we stood there arm in arm under the blazing sun on the blisteringly hot pavement of the church parking lot. I glowed in the memory of that prayer time the entire drive home.

Saturday afternoon, the lovely pristine sanctuary of Poydras Baptist Church was nearly filled for their dedication service. Pastor John Galey read a list of the church groups who have been to their community in lower St. Bernard Parish to assist them in the nearly two years since Katrina flooded them out. There must have been 30 churches in all, from all over the nation. I leaned over to Keith Manuel and said, “Now, multiply those 30 churches by 30 of our churches that have had the same kind of treatment in the last two years.”

The Baptists of Missouri have adopted that section of metro New Orleans, and Danny Decker, Disaster Relief director for that state convention was the main speaker this afteroon. The pastor and some members from Grace Fellowship Church of Amory, MS, were on hand and led in worship. It was a grand occasion.

On the drive back from Poydras, a phone call came from Ron Moskau, whose wife Janie is the pastor’s secretary at the First Baptist Church of Kenner (where I served from 1990 to 2004). He said, “Remember how you taught Janie to be suspicious of letters with no return address? Well, here’s what happened.”

As she does each day, Janie had gone to the post office a half mile down Williams Boulevard one morning this week. A note in the mailbox indicated a postage-due letter waiting for her. The line at the counter was so long, she chose not to wait and returned to the church office. Next day, the line was shorter, so she paid the 17 cents due. “I did it reluctantly,” she laughs. “You had taught us to watch out for anonymous letters because they can do so much damage.” She says, “I almost threw it away.”

Good thing she didn’t. Back at the church, she opened it up and found why extra postage was required. Inside was forty $100 bills. Four thousand dollars, in cash. A note said, “This is my tithe.” There was no signature of any kind.

I’m certain there is a good sermon illustration in that, but right now I don’t have any idea for one. It’s just a good story. Certainly worth the extra postage.

For those who pray for this city–and no doubt for the city where you live–let me offer a great Scripture verse that is most appropriate.

“Work for the welfare of the city where I have sent you…and pray on its behalf. For as it prospers, you will prosper.” (Jeremiah 29:7)