I saw a healer for a couple of years who taught me to talk to my body and instruct it to protect and heal. For one hour per week, I would meet with her and, on most occasions, leave a lot lighter than when I arrived. It was where I found my peace for a span. One day, I arrived, and I could tell she wasn’t feeling well; she was definitely under attack, and I could see it. I told her that I wish I knew what she knew so I could give her a treatment instead. She said that I was sweet and told me she was feeling the assault. She placed a few needles in me for relaxation and lit some incense, did her pulse check and whatnot, then left the room. As I laid there, I couldn’t stop thinking about ways to ask her to let me pray for her. I knew she didn’t have the same faith or beliefs as me, but I knew she believed in God. I didn’t relax at all, I asked God; show ME how? Tell ME, what I should do. I laid there impatiently waiting for her to return because I had to figure out my way in to ask to pray for her. She returned to the room and removed the needles, I sat up and put my shirt on, when I stood up, she grabbed my hand and asked; “will you pray for me?” Are you serious? I could’ve enjoyed my treatment! He had it all along! But, if I didn’t ask, would I have received?