There was the story of the four friends who destroyed the roof of a house so their friend could have access to Jesus and so Jesus could heal him. And He did.

There was the story of the woman with the issue of blood, how she stretched and struggled to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment. She touched it. She was healed.

Then there was the centurion who heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to Him asking Him to come and heal his servant. Jesus obliged and went with them. He healed the servant.

Hannah prayed and Samuel came.

Bartimaeus cried and shouted. Jesus stopped.

Tito did forty days fasting and prayer and she got pregnant.

Tara sowed a seed and she got the job the following Monday.

Tade was at Shiloh for seven days and his mum got out of sick bed.

But some of us are like the widow in Nain. She had no friends to destroy a roof, no servants to run any errand, no elders to put in a word for her. In fact only Luke remembered to record her story in chapter 7. All she did was carry her only son, who was dead, for burial. And just at the same time Jesus was passing by. No, she didn’t have the strength to say Hello or greet. She was too overwhelmed to ask Him for anything. All she did was show up and at that same time Jesus was passing by. And Jesus stopped. And her son was raised back to life. No prayer said. No request made.

There are some of us, we are not that spiritual to fast, we cannot also go to camps or be at summits. We don’t even have the moral strength to wail or shout. All we do is show up.

We get up in the morning and make the meal again.

We drag our feet and still report at work on Monday.

We carry those ‘dead dreams’ as we do school runs.

We sneak inside church and find a seat at the back.

No expectations. No anticipations.

Tired, we show up.

Discouraged, we show up.

Exhausted, we show up.

Hopeless, we show up.

Jesus stopped for her.

Jesus still stops for us.

Just show up.