One friend prayed for me through the open window of our car. Another friend prayed as we stood in the parking lot. Still another friend persevered to pray as we dripped in the sweat of 100o heat. Suddenly I realized the presence of God. My brain had been on overload for days and weeks. Too many ideas tossing around. I was on the edge of crying and possibly erupting. “Lord, help me see Your path clearly. Put my feet in place.” The where, when, and how of multiple who’s and what’s were all jumbled in my head. Work, music, Bible study. Hospitals, shelters, coffeehouses. Buses, magazines, bookstores, blog, old video, and new video. Storytelling and speaking, and oboe, piano, and singing. Current book, new book, and flitting notions of theater. And none of these things were bad. They were just all firing at the same time, and it felt frantic. In the onslaught of ideas, I was too scattered even to decide whether to have turkey or ham for lunch. Very unusually, I had opted out of the sermon that morning in favor of reading the Bible outside, as even amidst the church setting I typically love, I somehow wanted some one-on-one time with God. I sought the purity of His voice uninterrupted. I had prayed. I had asked others to pray. And now I stood in the midst of blessing. The Lord had sent comfort in the form of friends. He enlisted power in the form of prayer—both in English and in Spanish. I soon also read some of John MacArthur’s Anxious for Nothing, which is unusual because I ordinarily go straight to the Bible, but I assume the Lord had an intermediary in mind this time. MacArthur pointed me to the Psalms and Hebrews 11, which continues to ease my heart days later with the reminder that God does reward when we earnestly seek Him. To find calm within a storm is no small feat, and I give thanks.
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