Some stories don’t begin with drama or thunder, but with familiarity. A living room you could step into, and voices you’ve heard before.
This Story of the Week is about words spoken with the best intentions, about certainty that feels like devotion, and about a faith that is very busy doing things for God. It’s also about something quieter, something easily overlooked, yet deeper and more meaningful.
At Least, So He Thought invites you into a Wednesday night prayer meeting where nothing extraordinary seems to be happening… until it is. It’s a gentle, honest reflection on faith, humility, and the kind of holiness that cannot be forced, but is only received.
I pray God’s rich blessings upon you today, and thank you for reading.
At Least, So He thought
By J.K. Stenger
Howard was always the first to arrive at the prayer meeting, every Wednesday at Sarah and Michael’s, and he was also the last to leave. He felt home in their warm, cozy living room with the flowery wallpaper, the coal heater, and the special treats Sarah usually prepared.
Yes, he loved those times. In fact, his entire week was built around these meetings for it was there that he could truly express himself. After all, he had much to offer.
At least, so he thought.
He had a word of advice on every subject under the sun, a cure for every problem and a Bible passage for even the most difficult situations. Ever since he had found the Savior, he was walking the straight and narrow. He walked the path of holiness and had made it his mission to drag others along on the way to heavenly bliss.
At least, so he thought.
Yes, holiness was the goal. Holiness was the price, although something deep inside told him that not everyone was as excited about his contributions as he was himself. At times he thought he detected a sigh. Or a small gritting of teeth, or the shadow of a frown. Probably imagined. Nothing to be too concerned about.
And so he used these imagined perceptions of wariness or even resentment as a spring-board for more zeal and enthusiasm. It inspired him to pray even longer public prayers. He stuffed his spiritual outbursts with even more related scripture verses, and he rattled off more mini-sermons. Yes, he felt good about how his wisdom strengthened the little group of believers.
At least, so he thought.
On those evenings when he got the stage again, his voice took on a peculiar deep sound. The reverberating holiness of his words rambled through the small living room of the prayer warriors as if he emptied fresh coal into the heater. Of course, when he bought a pound of minced meat at the local butcher’s or when he, on rare occasions, ordered a pint in the Golden Swan, one would think he was a different person.
But the believers were meek, full of long-suffering, tender-hearted and forgiving one another, as Christ had forgiven them. So they said nothing.
Until the next Wednesday.
That’s when everything changed.
Martha, with tears in her eyes, asked for prayer. Her husband had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. The doctors told her, he had only months to live.
Howard smiled gently. He knew how to sail around this cliff, and said God could use her husband’s sickness to strengthen their faith.
Martha looked up at him, as if trying to understand whether he had really said that.
Then James asked for prayer as his son was into drugs and had run away from home.
Howard felt a familiar confidence rise. This was again one of those golden moments. Hard, yes, but clear. He knew what to say. In his customary holy voice, he shared how everything always happens for a reason and that God knew what He was doing.
James stared at him as if he were speaking Greek.
Howard shrugged and listened to Mary who also had a rough week. She too had tears in her eyes and shared how she had miscarried her unborn child.
Howard understood. “God, my dear,” he said, eager to offer more counsel, “just needed another little angel. You know what the Bible says? It says ’Rejoice, and again I say, rejoice.’”
It caused more tears and weeping from Mary. Howard shared a puzzled look with Michael.
Finally, Theodore shared he wasn’t sure he could still believe in God because of a situation he witnessed out in the world. Howard never asked what it was he had seen but was quick to spout off a list of books Theodore needed to read, so he would understand the mysterious ways of the Lord a little better.
That’s when Michael could not take it anymore. Enough was enough.
He turned his eyes toward Howard and said, “Howard… brother… please. Stop!”
Howard blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“But I want to encourage, to heal… To offer comfort and wisdom. It’s… the road to holiness.”
Michael shook his head. “You entirely misunderstand the path to holiness, brother. If you want to understand God, if you want to be holy, then you need to learn to be still. In the deep silence of trust, let God’s words and His presence sink into your heart. ‘In quietness and confidence shall your strength be.’”
“But I… um… I”
“Howard…,” Michael admonished him, while placing his hand on Howard’s shoulder, “Be still. And just listen as I pray.”
“But you never pray,” Howard still argued and he stared at Michael with eyes filled with doubt.
“Today, I will pray,” Michael replied gently. He no longer gave Howard any attention. He just closed his eyes and lifted his heart to the heavens.
At first, resentment welled up in Howard’s heart. Michael wasn’t even a pastor. Just because the prayer meeting was in his living room didn’t mean he could just lead everything. But as Michael began to pray, Howard began to listen.
The voice was calm as Michael brought all the needs of their little group before the Lord. He addressed God in warm tones. The reverence for God and the Spirit was clear in his voice and as he mentioned the pain and the battles everyone faced, a deep peace fell over them all.
Howard did not understand. He had never actually experienced something like this before. He still felt the urge to add to the prayer, to spice it up with bible verses, anecdotes, miracles he had heard about, but he could not. It was as if a guard stood before his mouth, a heavenly sentry that kept him in check, and not long after, a deep rest settled on his heart.
It was strange. An unfamiliar rest took hold of him. No longer did he want to do anything. He just wanted to bask in the sunshine of God’s love in the green pastures while listening to the murmurings of the waters of quietness.
Martha sobbed softly.
Mary did too.
But nobody spoke anymore. Everyone listened and so they sat there for the longest time.
At last, when the clock struck eleven, they all opened their eyes. Things had not changed as far as their circumstances, but nothing was the same anymore.
Mary laughed. A heavenly smile covered Martha’s face. James’ countenance shone as it had never shone before and a contagious peace radiated from Theodore.
They all knew.
God was at work. He would take care of every little detail. All was in His hands and it was well with their souls.
And Howard?
Howard was crying too. He hated to cry in front of the others, but he couldn’t help it. It just happened. The tears rolled. It made him feel so small and helpless. So small…
The others didn’t seem to mind. They just hugged him and told him how glad they were that he was one of them.
“True holiness, Howard,” Michael said with a gentle expression, “is found in the deep silence of trust, when you let God’s words and His presence sink into your heart. That’s where the healing is.”
Howard nodded. He understood.
At least, so he thought… and this time he really did.
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