Jesus, my postman

The Lord delivers gifts wrapped with the prettiest bows.  I had mailed a package to Israel a few weeks ago, then last week tried to track its customs number, learning only that the package was still roaming the countryside somewhere.  According to updates, delivery had been attempted more than once.  So I emailed my friend who’s the addressee.  The original plan was for her to receive the package and deliver the contents to our common friend who is a Holocaust Survivor.  But my friend who's the addressee had received no notice in her mailbox to pick up any package.  And the particular wordings on the tracking record seemed rather strange to her.  All I knew was that the package sat in Israel somewhere.  So I prayed.  It’s not that the contents were anything expensive, but more that our Survivor friend who has become our adoptive grandma enjoys coloring books, and I longed for her to not be lonely on her birthday and to receive a gift with a letter saying how much she’s loved by us and by God.  And then soon my inbox showed a new email.  My friend had located the package!  Eventually ending up at a postal substation, she could now happily ensure final delivery to our adoptive grandma on her birthday.  Really the Lord’s delivery of this package was a huge gift to me too, causing my heart to beam and seemingly my feet to float.  Our adoptive grandma is precious to us, and the idea to send this coloring book had been prayed over repeatedly.  Thank you, Lord, for being our postman, giving yet added meaning to Psalm 18:1-2, which says, “I love you, O Lord, my strength.  The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer . . .”   In truth, He is forever delivering both to and from.

Welcoming Russian friends: Добро пожаловать

I wondered, “What will I say?”  Feeling tempted, “Will we connect at all?  What will she think?”  For a few moments nervousness overran, as I second- and third-guessed the whole idea.  Then the door opened, and I knew it was her.  Our common friend set us up, knowing I was learning Russian, saying, “Oh, you should meet her.  I told her you’re going to visit Holocaust Survivors who speak Russian, and she wants to help.”  So this night at the coffee shop was precious for me, for I’d been hoping and praying.  And in that moment she pulled open the door, every haunting temptation fell away.  All worry cast out.  I felt my face run out of room to smile any bigger, and this fresh overwhelming joy set me almost speechless.  Yes, this whole endeavor toward Russian was revealing anew again.  And the Lord had set our table so tenderly, having prepared for us conversation far deeper than the learning of any one language, guiding us through a whole array of talking, listening, laughter, and tears.  She did help me with my Russian and shared firsthand of Russian culture, yet more than anything I simply loved my new friend and was praying for her.  She soon posed the notion of designing a card in Russian to welcome the Holocaust Survivors who would attend our concerts, and upon our arriving Israel in a few weeks, we witnessed such love conveyed in the giving and receiving of those cards.  Thinking back, what if I had withdrawn in fear that night at the coffee shop?  What if we had never met?  How empty I would feel, as I wouldn't have laughed with her in love of our cats, and sadly I wouldn't know the thrill of anticipating a concert with her in a couple of weeks.  Here again I saw the abundant blessing of persevering through the unknown.  Again I saw my need of the strength of the Lord.  In Matthew 26:41, Jesus tells His disciples, “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.  The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”   And I thank Him for saving me, saving us, daily.

Flood of Russian reassurance

For almost 2 years, the idea to learn Russian has stayed with me.  I haven’t known why exactly, except that when meeting Holocaust Survivors in 2015, the Lord gave me a deep love for them.  And they spoke Russian.  So as part of loving and serving them, it seems natural to want to share in their language.  And as I’ve prayed for the Lord to guide me, He’s recently revealed a couple of things.  He showed my husband and me to return to the Survivors in Israel in February.  He also introduced me to some delightful new friends, reminding me to not become so focused on any one future event that I lose sight of blessings along the road.  When taking a local community education class, I met someone for whom I’m so grateful because she continues even now to teach me more of the language.  Through italki.com, I met Russian-speakers via Skype who also are helping me learn.  And in both instances, these acquaintances have become friendships and have brought blessings beyond language.  There’s been opportunity to learn about life in other parts of the world and pray for these new friends and share the name of Christ.  How sweet is that!  And still as I’ve been tempted to feel frustrated at learning the language so slowly, the Lord set my ears to the song “Flood the Earth.”  Just imagining His glory and power pushing out darkness and fear and pain, as the lyrics say, I suddenly focus more on the pleasure of His larger purposes and less on any difficulty of learning a single language.  The Lord will indeed accomplish His purposes.  There's no thwarting that.  In whatever way He chooses to use the Russian language with me and the Survivors, with these new friends, with whomever else, He will supernaturally make it happen.  My job is to diligently seek Him.  Philippians 1:6 tell us, “. . . he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”  And it is there that you and I can be thankful to find peace in the Lord's love.

Learn Russian? - Part 2

Learn Russian?  That was my question in this blog last April.  I had a desire to learn the language but didn’t know why.  So I kept asking the Lord.  Local library books weren’t plentiful.  YouTube helped with pieces.  I tried where I knew, but progress was slow.  One day searching for anything Russian in San Antonio, I learned about Sasha’s European Market and stopped by to ask if anyone gave language lessons.  My best bet, as I was told, was to enroll for 8 lessons with NEISD’s Community Education program.  This past fall they offered the course, and I loved it.  Yet approaching the last class, I still pondered my purpose.  Then soon I learned about a Russian nurse at my hospital.  Cartwheels started turning in my heart, just beaming with blessing, just imagining and hoping to really use what I'd learned.  Finally I met her, and she said, “ЗДРАВСТВУЙТЕ,” which sounds like [zdravstvyuti].  I was speechless, in a good way.  My learning on paper suddenly became real life, and though my brain understood, my tongue suffered initial paralysis.  Then recovering, another thought came.  I should inquire of my friend in Israel who introduced us to the Russian Holocaust Survivors.  Would she have any use for my beginning Russian?  And oh, did she!  She posed the idea of making greeting cards for the Survivors, and again the cartwheels came. Yes!  I can do this!  How will I find a font for the Cyrillic alphabet to make these cards?  I didn’t know, but the idea sure seemed workable.  Just this week I prayed through that task, making good strides with my husband’s help, realizing it's the Lord ultimately connecting all the dots.  Philippians 4:6-7 says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  A new realm of amazement.  To watch Him work refreshes the day like nothing else.

Learn Russian?

Why learn Russian?  Will I ever use it?  The idea hit months ago.  And I asked the Lord.  I enjoy reviewing my Russian language notes from our trip to Israel in October.  Our translator taught me words like privyet and spasiba, and when I talk with her on Skype now, I try to still use them.  One day I dialed up YouTube and learned menya zovut.  When I checked it with my translator friend, she verified that it does mean 'my name is.'  Then my theatre group performed at a local school, and as we met the cafeteria staff providing lunch, how fun to meet a man from Russia and be able to tell him spasiba (thank you) for the meal.  One day with church, I smiled to say privyet to greet my Russian friend and was pleasantly surprised to learn we have a new family too with ties to Russia.  And as recently as this Friday, I was at the grocery store and heard a man and a woman speaking a language that could’ve been Russian.  Seems I keep asking the Lord, and circumstances keep me in earshot of the language.  Certainly nothing's felt discouraging in any way.  So still, as much as I’d love to return to Israel, will the Lord call me again to visit the Holocaust survivors there who speak Russian?  Or could He be connecting me with an entirely new group of Russian speakers?  Yesterday I ordered my public library’s only Russian language book:  The complete idiot’s guide to learning Russian.  I’m diving in.  No set schedule.  No pressure.  And I'm happy about it.  May the Lord keep my eyes open.  And how exciting if all this leads up to meeting someone new at the library too.

Languages of an Israeli morning

Danish, Dutch, Russian, and English.  Each morning we prayed together, the languages evidenced God’s presence across the different lands.  My husband and I stayed in a house in Israel that hosted volunteers from around the world.  We all sought the Lord.  We all shared purpose in serving survivors of the Holocaust.  We all found our horizons broadened in being together.  Yet back home, each of us would tend to view God in more finite terms.  Americans think of God in terms of American experiences.  Europeans think of God according to European experiences.  Tendency is pretty much the same for everybody everywhere.  Only when we experience someone else’s way of living, perhaps only when our geography changes, do we step out of our narrow thought.  Yet our God is big.  Actually He’s beyond big.  Revelation 5:9 speaks of the Lamb whose blood purchased men from every tribe, language, people, and nation.  Just imagine the beauty of having all the world’s languages represented in one room.  Even knowing just our 4 languages in Israel brought a weight of blessing.  Christ’s death and resurrection were for love of people of every language.  Our God is everywhere.

Greetings from Israel

Hello, Everybody!  I missed you while we were in Israel.  Ours was a trip to serve Holocaust survivors, and oh how the Lord blessed all around.  When people meet, when countries meet, you never know what will happen exactly.  To visit these precious survivors just melted my heart.  Hearing their stories, looking into their eyes, I felt my streams of tears turning into rivers.  I asked our Russian translator to convey that these tears were not in sadness but in joy of sitting in their homes and realizing the Lord bringing this call to Israel to fruition.  Connecting through music and receiving their prayer requests simply showered blessing that my body couldn’t contain.  And delivering quilted gifts that our American friends lovingly sewed brought new humility.  To say the scope of God’s work is vast is an understatement.  For this occasion, He orchestrated people from Denmark, Siberia, Holland, and America to all arrive the same country, the same city, the same street at the same time.  And we’re humbled again to see how He’s using this one trip to impact co-workers, friends, and family.  He weaves emotion and thought and inclines the heart, all to bring blessing that ripples out to touch so many.  Our God is big.  And so I pray that you tell of the experiences He gives you.  May your stories brighten the days of those you meet.  Jesus said, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.  And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19)

Airline scramble

What a thrilling phone call.  A surprising one, to say the least.  This morning I woke up tired and groggy, and the idea of sorting through flight times and escalating prices with the travel agent wasn’t exactly appealing.  I pleaded, “Lord, lead me.  May You give peace.  Let me feel close to You in this.”  Curled up on the couch and staring out my favorite window, my eyes slipped toward the coffee table.  There sat my friend’s notes, and I remembered her talking about 2 Corinthians 5.  Verse 10 says, “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.”  Suddenly several events from the last couple of weeks converged in my head, and a new idea pressed in:  Ask the travel agent if she knows Jesus.  According to that verse in Corinthians, I would be held accountable for following through.  But I needed to think about this.  I hadn’t envisioned my conversation with the travel agent including this question.  Temptation conjured a variety of reactions she might have, including anger, and a friend suggested to me later that an angry agent could have sabotaged my tickets.  But as it actually happened, around 11:00 that morning, the travel agent called to report ticket prices staying high and to ask what I wanted to do.  Reluctant to spend too much too soon, I replied, “May I pause a minute to pray?”  So with the agent listening over the phone, I asked the Lord to show me whether to purchase now or wait.  Then I opted to purchase at the higher price.  We discussed the fluctuation of prices we’d seen over our roughly 10 days together, and then as I sensed the Lord opening that conversational door I awaited, I asked her if she knew Jesus.  “Yes,” she responded, "I do."  We finished the billing process, and she said she’d email the tickets.  Yet when she called to confirm my receipt, her voice conveyed a curious inflection, saying, “Very interesting, Linda,” and I imagined her speaking complete with smirk and furled brow.  “When I sent your reservations for final ticketing,” she continued, “prices fell.  Your fares to Israel ended up the lowest we’ve seen.”  And as my heart danced in amazement, she added, “And you prayed!  You prayed about the tickets!”  She was clearly happy, in fact so happy that we talked about faith and the Lord for quite a while.  That combination of prayer over the phone and the question the Lord led me to ask her seemed a launching pad for pure joy.  All the while my heart kept turning cartwheels to realize how the Lord lowered the ticket prices.  And certainly nothing required Him to do that.  Just a bonus gift.  There was monetary benefit for my husband and me, but even more it seemed the Lord was encouraging obedience, as He simply loves to reward His children.  And as He bestows many layers of blessings all at once, I witnessed the travel agent being a recipient of encouragement as well.  I look back to recognize the Lord working weeks before, setting me in earshot of a particular restaurant conversation and 2 separate phone calls, which He orchestrated to keep fresh in my head until converging at that perfect moment with the travel agent.  It's thrilling each time I recount the story.  May I never underestimate, may we never underestimate, His omniscience and great power.

Fabric question at Hobby Lobby

This trip to Hobby Lobby was different.  With my 40%-off coupon in hand, I headed to the fabric section, and there it was.  A big roll of white cotton batting lying in wait on the shelf.  No apparent price, so I inquired at the cutting table, and the lady told me $12.99.  “May I use my 40% coupon?”  “Yes,” she replied, and as I consented to buy, she cleared the table to measure 7 yards.  Already I sensed in my heart the Lord giving me a special task.  Beyond any purchase of batting, it seemed He positioned me to ask this lady if she knew Jesus.  And she’s the one who started the conversation, “So what are you making?”  I explained about quilting for Holocaust survivors and how we’d seen God orchestrating people and events, all with impeccable timing that's leading us to make a trip to Israel.  I posed, “Do you know Jesus?”  And as her scissors began to cut my 7 yards, she answered with an affirmative nod and peered upward, “May I ask you a favor?  Would you pray for my daughter whose house burned last night?  A man was driving by late and stopped to tell them.  Half of the house was saved, and the Red Cross is helping, but would you pray?”  And I was stunned.  The Lord had used my question as a connection point for prayer.  That prompting in my heart was to encourage both the lady and me, and I continued, “What a blessing that the man drove by!  So you understand how the Lord can line up circumstances.  He led the man to drive by your daughter’s house, just like he led someone to give me a sewing machine and someone else to invite me to a quilting group because I know almost nothing about sewing.  And, yes, I will be privileged to pray for your daughter.”  It seemed a pause of pleasure filled the air for us both to contemplate the wonders of the Lord.  And as this Hobby Lobby trip held a wonderful difference about it, isn’t this the case potentially with all things?  A trip to the grocery store can be for much more than food, like the day the girl bagging our groceries asked us a Bible question.  And I remember a trip to the doctor’s office where I met a lady who was very scared, and the Lord gave opportunity for us to pray.  And on this day at Hobby Lobby, I exited the store in prayer, offering the daughter’s name to the Lord for provision and presence.  How I was blessed to be part. 

Personal delivery for Holocaust survivors

Why would a customer walk into a sewing store and give away her personal possession?  More specifically, why would a lady bring her sewing machine from home and ask the store employee to give it away to a beginner sewing student?  The whole scene is unusual.  As quilting started for me on such unlikely terms, and as it’s grown to yield some surprisingly pleasing fabric designs, and as it’s brought some sweet new friendships that I treasure, it seems also to be leading toward a trip to Israel.  And to personally deliver quilts as hand-crafted heirlooms for Holocaust survivors there, what a huge blessing and honor.  The idea for the trip entered my brain and recurred enough times that my husband and I filled out applications to work with my friend’s ministry, only to have her tell me over the phone that they’d been praying for musicians to come.  Interestingly the music question on the application was only a small portion of page 2 of a total 5 pages, and it provided only a single blank for answering.  We listed guitar, oboe, voice, and some other possibilities, having no inkling of how the ministry office had been praying.  And actually my husband wasn’t relishing the notion of traipsing through airports with a big, bulky guitar, so I asked my friend if he should bring his guitar.  She replied that someone recently donated a guitar to their ministry, and my husband could be first in line to play.  How sweet of the Lord to keep making the trip more attractive!  Now it’s not just a story of quilting but also music.  That part about their prayer keeps replaying in my head, and the jaw of my heart figuratively drops each time I recount it.  Numbers 22 tells of God speaking through the unlikely mouth of a donkey.  First Kings 17 explains how God sent ravens to deliver bread and meat to Elijah.  Today the Lord prepares a girl who knows little about sewing to become a quilter for the sake of Holocaust survivors in Israel, taking with her a husband whom the Lord inspired as well and some music He's been growing in both of them for years, also connecting her with some sweet sewing friends to lend aid, and supplying her with a sewing machine from someone she never met.  We’re thrilled already, and we haven’t yet set foot on the plane!  May He prepare us all with insight to recognize His sometimes unusual, unique circumstances.  May we not miss any ounce of the joy He offers.  What a magnificent God we serve.  What a magnificent God serves us.

Heirloom Project

“Lord, why am I in a quilting group?  What’s my purpose?”  As much as I loved my new friends and as much as I now looked forward to Mondays, I still wondered what God had in store.  Then came this email.  My friend from Israel who ministers to Holocaust survivors sent a link to her Heirloom Project.  Anyone who makes handcrafts may donate their wares to a survivor, in turn providing a new heirloom the survivor can pass to their coming generations in replacement of what was lost in the Holocaust.  What was at the top of the Heirloom Project’s list of possible handcrafts?  Quilting.  So I wondered, “Lord, do you want me to make a quilt to send to Israel?”  Less than a week later, I’m at a friend’s house.  She’s a seamstress, so I share with her my adventure into quilting.  Suddenly her eyes light up, and she tells me to follow her to the attic.  She opens a box filled with quilting squares just waiting to be finished.  All these smaller squares were sewn by her mom’s friends who have now passed away, yet their handiwork lives on.  They need only to be incorporated into the larger size of the finished quilt.  The whole set of circumstances boggles my mind.  First the invitation to join the quilting group, which seemed such a foreign idea in the beginning.  Then the email from Israel.  Then the quilting squares in the attic.  To think how the Lord lined everything up so perfectly.  And no longer am I just hanging out with friends while they quilt.  No longer am I just the ironing girl who neatens everyone’s sewing seams.  I've now graduated to sitting at a machine to sew.  Our last meeting was my trial run.  With constant coaching and laughter mixed in, some somewhat straight stitching actually fastened 2 pieces of fabric!  We laughed away my initial apprehension when I stitched the wrong pieces together!  From hardly ever threading a needle to now having fun at the machine, the Lord has begun a work that I want to finish.  Experiencing His intricate planning leaves me in awe once again.