Driving a fierce Corpus Christi storm

What’s it like to drive into a storm?  What bombards your brain when there’s no turning back?  Last weekend I shuddered to hear my friend retell this story.  Her trek on this eventful day was along the Texas coastline from Aransas Pass to Corpus Christi, which is a 30-minute stretch that usually paces pretty quick.  Having seen a storm warning on the TV morning news, she thought, “I’ll be fine.  I can’t afford to stay home.”  She pointed her little black Mazda toward the bigger city and suddenly fell victim to a darkening sky.  The purple and black were ominous, especially with the winds turning fierce.  Yellow construction signs ripped across the road, and something like seaweed strewed across her windshield.  The reality of flooding was imminent.  She pleaded, “Lord, make me strong.  I shouldn’t have left home.  I will listen to my husband next time.”  And it was then that these white lights appeared in front of her.  White lights that she could not explain.  It was a tow truck gliding just perfectly into her lane in the open spot ahead.  Nowhere earlier had she seen any evidence of this truck, yet now his 4 radiant white lights beamed a resounding message of hope.  Those white utility lights signified deliverance in a big way.  And my sweet friend arrived her workplace in fine form, having experienced the Lord literally shining His light on her dreadfully dark road.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord.  And afterward her husband told her the winds had clocked at 70 mph.  Amen.

What do McDonald's, a collision shop, and an insurance office have in common?

I love how God uses something small to accomplish something big.  In this case, He began with 1 person and 1 event and kept adding different chapters to the story as people entered the room.  One girl shared about eating at McDonald’s and suddenly realizing, lo and behold, the Lord opening a door for her to mention His name with one of the employees.  All of us listeners were happy to hear, and I tossed in the story of the Lord prompting me to pray for the collision shop employees repairing my car and the thrill of talking about prayer with one of the shop supervisors.  All the while, smiles are growing and encouragement's blossoming throughout our classroom.  Another girl happily testifies to the Lord giving opportunity to mention His name at her insurance agent’s office.  None of these being intrusive occasions, but rather just perfect pauses into which the Lord compels our participation.  A fourth story giddily adds into testimony, and the whole aura of the room becomes wide-eyed and flourishing with excitement.  All gathering momentum from that first small mention of the Lord's name.  People gain confidence in recognizing the Lord at work in the ordinary day.  To tell about Him is vital because not every household speaks His name.  His name means hope, and we are people in need of that hope.  You may tell a story about the Lord that is perfect encouragement for someone's trouble.  Second Timothy 1:8 says, “So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord . . .”  Don't fall into thinking that a story of God could ever be insignificant.  If God’s in it, it’s big, and it can inspire.

KLOVE & a napkin

How many times in the car have I pulled a napkin from the glove compartment to write down the words of a song?  All those extra napkins become lyric sheets when the radio's playing.  When KLOVE aired a Chris Tomlin tune recently, I again leaned for a napkin.  This song being about angel armies, I scratched a quick reminder about my friend regarding a job.  For weeks I’d been praying for him, and I wanted to be sure to talk with him on Sunday.  The lyrics said “the God of angel armies is always by my side,” and the words applied perfectly to my friend's situation.  That morning in the car wasn’t ordinary.  That song wasn’t just a song.  The Lord was solving a jigsaw puzzle regarding a job for my friend.  He fit the car and the song pieces into the puzzle that Wednesday morning, and on Sunday my friend told of how the Lord was stretching money and paying his bills.  Amazingly his bank account didn’t have a negative balance.  As he told the story, I smiled and chuckled to witness the Lord yet once again right in the middle of the details of our living.  I carried my handwritten napkin and shared it in testimony of the Lord weaving us all together.  Indeed He is great.  Every imprint of His presence resounds of His love.  And I have prayed for you today to know the presence of Christ.