Gift of scarves

To buy a friend some scarves.  It’s such a simple thing.  Yet such immense pleasure came in the shopping.  One light blue, one black, one reddish brown, each scarf in a fun print that would look so sweet on her.  YouTube has lots of good ideas, whether wearing for beauty or for warmth.  Even hours of deliberating over fabric brought such joy, just hoping to remind my friend that she’s loved and that she's not alone.  Cancer is a big word.  It’s a heavy word.  When my friend hurts, so do I.  When she loses her hair, I want to take away her pain.  I ask the Lord to heal her and lift her from sadness and show me a way to help.  When talking about the body of Believers, 1 Corinthians 12:26 says, “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.”  So I continue to pray for the Lord's presence upon my friend.  His power surpasses all.  His love transcends.

Precious trip to the bank

Just a quick stop at the bank.  I entered the building, signed in, started assembling a cup of coffee, and heard my name called.  The man ushered me into his office and took care of my question, then asked, "May I update your account profile?"  I obliged, and he continued, "You work in theatre?"  "Yes," I said.  He paused from his keyboard to look up, "That's cool."  Smiling, he scrolled down my profile to verify address and phone, then returned to the theatre idea, "How did you get into theatre?"  He pursued, "How did you audition?"  Still again, "If you audition for one part, but it doesn't fit, do they give you another part?"  He dispatched a whole series of inquiries, and I realized the Lord was orchestrating this remarkable opportunity for dialogue that ultimately begged only one answer:  Jesus.  Five years ago, as the theatre idea first pressed within me, I prayed, "Lord, what is this?  What do I do?  Where are You asking me to go?"  I soon found myself transported into the world of theatre and a whole new set of blessings.  Today's trip to the bank was opportunity to encourage this man in his own personal walk with the Lord, whether involving theatre or anything else.  Such delight in letting him know that the Lord has a joyful plan for his life.  So precious to acquaint people with the name of Christ and invite them to experience the Lord's love first-hand.  We're told in 1 Peter 3:15, ". . . Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have . . ."  Are we ready?

TurboTax

Taxes.  What to do?  Where in TurboTax do you enter this one last tortuous number?  That was us in our living room a couple of weeks ago.  Frustration rising.  On the verge of screaming.  And actually TurboTax has been good to us.  But somehow this year we had one spot of trouble related to foreign tax.  Noticing my husband's anxiety about to erupt, I inquired, “Have you asked the Lord?”  His answer:  “No.”  So I prayed.  “Lord, help!  Please point us to the section we need in order to finish these taxes.”  And then we kept hunting.  Not here.  Not there.  Check again.  Still not here.  Still not there.  A gruff mumbling burdened the room.  But then an interruption.  I looked up to a stunning glow upon my husband’s face.  A radiant beam of relief, of immense thanks, almost unbelief.  That seemingly endless string of computer clicks and searching all around had now sorted.  It was solved.  Finished.  The Lord had shown us where to enter that last number.  And there my knee hit the floor to offer Him a truly huge thank-you.  How easily any of us can fall into the danger of tackling a task on our own.  Then when the unexpected problem hits, we sink into feeling weary, leaving us blinded from inviting the Lord's presence.  And so I am humbled by this experience with our taxes.  And I wonder too for your sake, how does this story translate?  Are you facing a problem?  Some kind of dreaded task staring you down?  I encourage you to seek the Lord.  Proverbs 19:23 says, “The fear of the Lord leads to life:  then one rests content, untouched by trouble.”

Nuggets of wisdom—literally

How does a tray of chicken nuggets make anyone so happy?  Here’s what happened.  December is a different kind of month for our family.  As jobs have varying pay rates, December tends to bring us a more plentiful paycheck.  And while more money can be a good thing, it can also set up a struggle.  What is the right way to handle this extra money?  It’s the age-old man-versus-God tug-of-war.  Man's selfishness.  God's selflessness.  Malachi 3 tells of the same predicament centuries ago.  God explained that when people don't tithe, they're stealing.  When they don't return 10 percent to the Lord, they're robbing Him, and consequently a curse came upon the nation.  Yet if they would change their ways and bring the whole tithe to the storehouse, He would bestow blessing so immense they wouldn’t have room to hold it.  And that’s why I write today—to tell of the Lord’s faithfulness in not letting us wallow.  Pressing us through our battle, He put a pen in my hand and etched out a check, and our tithe for the extra income came to fruition. And very quickly He bestowed another blessing. My husband told me about an email we received from Chick-fil-A offering a free tray of chicken nuggets.  Now the word tray implies a large quantity, so we were prepared it might be a misprint.  Either way, big tray or small box, we decided to go.  Soon the cashier hands me a tray of yummy chicken nuggets large enough to feed 8 people, and our eyes must have ogled and our feet must have frolicked in blessing.  That’s $24 of chicken that cost us nothing but the tenacity to press through temptation.  And why would the Lord use Chick-fil-A?  Maybe because it’s one of my favorites.  A tangible illustration of His faithfulness to provide when we follow His word.  God’s grace fed us that day.  More scrumptious than ever, those nuggets warmed my heart.

Sweet Treats

Know anyone looking for a job?  Maybe looking to change jobs?  Here’s a story.  My friends sold their house in California and moved to Texas.  Needing new work, they wondered about transplanting their fire extinguisher business, but then an uncle mentioned selling ice cream.  So they bought an ice cream truck online and later signed a 6-month lease to open an ice cream shoppe neighboring a thrift store, a church, and an Alcoholics Anonymous office.  The truck and the shoppe worked hand in hand, with children buying from the truck receiving an invitation to eat pizza and study the Bible at the shoppe.  Studies began in the summer at 7 PM, initially attracting 4 kids, then growing to host 8, with most ranging in age from 10 to 13.  And my friends loved it.  They loved the children, and they loved the teaching, all the while focusing on honoring the Lord rather than making money.  And indeed the Lord took care of them, supplying income as they had sought and supplying joy that overflowed in every direction.  One mom said, “Thank you for teaching my daughter the Bible.  I thought she’d learn about God in church, but no, it happened through our ice cream vendor.”  One neighbor from the Alcoholics Anonymous office stopped by the shoppe, being grateful to find someone willing to listen, and in turn my friends took pleasure in offering to accompany this lady to church.  But alongside blessings, there came heartache too.  One of the neighborhood boys stopped coming to study because he was removed from his parents to go live with a foster family.  And as sadness set in for my friends, they were grateful all the more to have shared at least a short time with the boy.  As they look back on this whole endeavor with ice cream, they remember it being born from the desire to experience the Lord.  And experience Him they certainly did, even when obstacles appeared.  My sweet friend who is the wife in this story grew up in Mexico, and at first she didn’t feel confident in her use of English to communicate with the ice cream customers, yet she found such delight in watching the Lord navigate the details.  In Isaiah 41:10, God comforts His people, saying, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”  And may we each step out in complete confidence of the Lord's ability to provide on our account.

Jesus, my gift-buyer

Is any experience with God any bigger or smaller than another?  Today I submit for you to judge.  And you should know this story causes great sigh within me.  It involves something regularly unraveling my every nerve.  The culprit is gift-buying.  Gift-giving brings joy, but so often before the giving, I’ve already endured the trial of buying.  Whether shopping at a mall, or buying from an individual artisan, or purchasing ingredients in order to make by my own hand—somehow I so easily encounter this hollow feeling.  Even buying for those I love dearly, this void of ideas evidences so predictably.  Recently I pleaded, “Lord, help me.  Show me a birthday gift for my husband.”  Soon I entered a Half Price Books parking lot, at first thinking I was there for paper birthday plates.  I debated, “But Half Price doesn’t sell plates, do they?”  Still I pulled open the store door.  Sure enough, the cashier says they don’t sell party supplies, but I resolved to look around since I was already there.  In the electronics section I see earbuds.  Amazement speaks, “Oh, wow, he’s been talking about new earbuds.  These’ll be great.”  But wait a minute.  Which kind?  Which color?  And there my heart sinks because it recognizes the lethal indecisiveness that’s about to set in.  And how thankful I become for the Lord's quick reminder to ask Him to choose the earbuds, so I don’t waste all afternoon vacillating between color and style.  Then I drive home.  Party time comes, and I realize something else.  As my husband gleefully unwraps the earbuds, he says, “You even got the straight kind!”  And bewilderment must have shown on my face.  He points to our old purple earbuds with the cords that dangle too close, and within me a new height of thankfulness blossoms to realize how the Lord guided my hand to select these earbuds without my even knowing about straight cord options.  Yes, He rescued me again.  And I don’t want to assign any size or weight to this blessing.  Just as the Lord rescued me from a rainy, muddy mess in Mexico, just as He rescued me on a deserted road in Israel, now He rescues me in America in the mire of my shopping.  And this shopping is not necessarily any less of a mess.  Our fears reveal in different settings.  Our weaknesses show at different times.  The message here is that the Lord rescues us over and over—whatever the deficiency, whatever the plea.  In 2 Peter 2:9, we read, “. . . the Lord knows how to rescue godly men from trials . . .”  The chapter gives historical examples of the Lord rescuing, such as with Noah.  And still today the Lord rescues.  He loves His children.  He hears.  He listens.  And with each rescue, my love for Him grows.

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.

Hospital hassle

Oh, man!  I was 24 cents short. Now I’d have to leave my lunch tray, go to the locker room, get my wallet, and come back to pay.  On a day when I was really hungry, what a hassle!  The salad bar at the hospital cafeteria is fabulous.  Volunteers receive a lunch voucher, and I look forward to piling a high mix of greens and the works.  Usually tomatoes, egg, cheese, sunflower seeds, lots of veggies, and on special occasions, edamame.  Mine has delicate balance, so I slowly place my plate on the cashier's scale, wanting not to spill any portion.  The cashier takes my voucher and waves me through.  Except this time the lady’s eyebrows furled.  Squinting and leaning to double-check, she says, “Uh-oh.  You’re 24 cents over.”  I hadn’t brought my wallet to the lunch room in years, so I asked what to do.  “Go ahead," she tells me, "Just bring your money before I leave at 1:30."  No problem.  This was now an issue of honesty.  This was important.  I didn’t want to mess up, so I found a napkin and scratched a reminder.  Lunch proceeded with friends and laughter as usual, but I didn’t lose sight of my note on the napkin.  I walked to my locker, counted my coins, and felt joy swelling inside for this opportunity to let honesty shine.  This nuisance of an interruption had become sweet occasion for doing the right thing.  Just 2 dimes and 4 pennies.  I waited my turn in the cashier’s line and gladly presented my fee.  Proverbs 12:16-17 says, "A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult.  A truthful witness gives honest testimony, but a false witness tells lies."  Thank you, Lord, for shedding light once again.

Wedding + rent cars = 8

One small wedding.  Granted, it was a destination wedding.  Savannah is one of the many sweet spots on this earth, and the details appeared finely tuned and ready to go.  With options for flying into Savannah, Jacksonville, or Charleston, we could grab a rent car and even stay the weekend just for fun.  Surely we could share the rent cars once we arrived.  The idea kept sounding good, but in actuality the car scenario wasn’t panning out.  On the day of departure, the bride and groom had trouble from the start.  An overturned concrete truck delayed traffic on the highway and caused them to miss their flight.  Oodles of phone minutes with airlines and $2,000 later, the bride was crying, and the groom's composure had clearly been tested.  The only available replacement flights were out of DFW instead of Love Field, with a return flight out of Jacksonville instead of Savannah, which they quickly booked, though knowing they'd have to sort details later.  They arrived Savannah and rented a car, and the next day the wedding ceremony was beautiful.  All those months of intricate planning certainly proved fruitful.  When the weekend finished and time came to head home, the couple’s rent car still required return to the Savannah airport in order to avoid stiff penalty.  Wanting not to worsen their already $2,000 in the hole, they returned the car as required and hitched a ride to Jacksonville with the bride's grandparents, who had also stayed the weekend to enjoy the city.  The grandparents' rent car had little extra room for luggage, as they never dreamed they’d be carrying the bride and groom on this 2-hour ride to the Jacksonville airport.  Trying to lessen the luggage load, they relegated transportation of the wedding dress to the groom’s dad because he was driving all the way home to Texas without any airport stops.  They carefully stacked 3 suitcases in the middle of the back seat to Jacksonville and hopped in the car for their 2-hour trek.  Considering the bride's family, the groom's family, and the 3 friends who decided to crash the wedding, I counted at least 7 rent cars for a relatively small wedding party, and that seems excessive.  But the cars proved helpful, especially when trying to sidestep the rain that loomed each day and handle various trips for make-up, hair, photos, and food.  I recall the early days of having prayed over this wedding, now realizing the Lord had reason for us to rent all these separate cars.  He knew from the beginning that the concrete truck would overturn and that He would love our family through each agonizing step of the whole ordeal, all the while using the potential catastrophe to actually deepen our confidence in Him as provider.  Everyone still made it to the wedding, and we saw opportunity to put prayer at the forefront once again.  Isaiah 58:11 says, "The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame . . ."  How I love Him for loving us first.  I pray too for the driver of the concrete truck.

Medicaid & God

Medicaid.  The word implies people.  The word implies money.  Give, receive, need, want—somehow there’s money involved.  But is it possible the Lord might enable someone’s enrollment with Medicaid, and the reason would have little to do with money?  Here’s a story from my friend.  She has 5 children, her husband is self-employed, and they recently realized they’re pregnant again.  She dialed up Medicaid to enroll for her pregnancy, but things didn’t fly too smoothly.  One person said this, another person said that, and as frustration built, she wondered how her scenario would ever solve.  She asked the Lord to provide, and soon came a call from Austin, which is big headquarters in Texas for lots of government offices.  But she hadn’t been talking to Austin before, so why now?  Who contacted Austin on her behalf?  It seems that God dialed up Austin.  This new lady on the phone broke through all kinds of barriers, and the rigmarole that seemed impossible to overcome previously was now moot.  Yet of all the millions of people enrolled in Texas Medicaid, why did my friend’s case find favor?  When she has routinely been asked in her pregnancies about a blood test for Down Syndrome, she has declined.  With her Medicaid physicians, she has refused that test that often becomes a determining factor for parents to abort their baby.  My friend loves her baby, and she’s giving birth to her baby and keeping her baby, so she sees no point in conducting that Down Syndrome test.  Perhaps that testimony right there is why the Lord provided that unlikely phone call from Austin.  The Lord loves life.  Deuteronomy 30:19 tells us to choose life.  God is forever bringing life to that which appears dead, and He rejuvenates us again and again from circumstances we think will swallow us whole.  I say it’s entirely possible that the Lord could use my friend’s perspective on life to encourage people she'll meet through Medicaid.  And what thrill to imagine the conversations the Lord might draw together to influence a mom or a dad to keep their baby!  So I pray for that exact thing.  Thank you, Lord, for providing that phone call from Austin for my sweet friend.  May Your light shine through her to attract conversation with patients and medical staff and any and all she will meet.  May they experience Your love and celebrate the births of their babies.  May they know You as their Savior.  Amen.  Indeed we serve a powerful and gracious God who can use us anywhere on this earth for His purposes.

Off-stage with the cashier

Last week I walked into a restaurant and heard some disturbing words.  “I’m going to hell,” the cashier laughed.  But I didn’t laugh.  Hell is too terrible a place, and it lasts forever.  I wanted to be sure the cashier knew she had a choice.  Did I take her comment too seriously?  I’ve met people who say “go to hell” so casually, as if the idea is harmless, as if it’s not real.  I’ve met people who don’t recognize the name of Jesus as the one who can save them from hell.  I’ve asked the Lord to give me His love for people that I may genuinely reach out.  For dinner, our waitress placed some scrumptious chicken and cornbread on the table, but nothing swayed me from hoping to talk to the cashier again, and I asked the Lord for an open door.  Time came to pay our bill, and sure enough, I see the same cashier still on duty.  I paid my tab, and lo and behold, I hear my voice aloud, “I kept thinking about what you said when we walked in tonight.  I’m so thankful Jesus saved me.  And because no one has to go to hell [meaning we all have a choice], do you know Jesus? ”  She smiled to answer, “Yes.  I know I shouldn’t be saying what I did.  It’s just that I did something bad.”  And as she spoke, my heart sighed to know that deep down she did know the Lord.  What relief.  And how blessed I always feel to speak the Lord’s name into public air.  Throughout the week the Lord set me in the middle of several similar interactions.  All happening 6 hours from home on a theater trip.  All woven amidst my usual theater nervousness and my usual lack of sleep.  All this impossible if I had chosen not to follow the Lord into this realm of theater that’s new for me.  But when the Lord orchestrates, my attention turns, and my nervousness dissipates.  I love to see Him at work.

A Luke 14 pizza feast

Put the Food Network and HGTV together, and you’ve got a pretty good set of ideas for your home.  They talk about meals and events I’ve never thought of before, and they make DIY tasks look possible and even fun.  But I’m unaware of them ever telling how to host a feast quite like Luke 14 does.  In this chapter, verses 12-14 in particular, Jesus says, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid.  But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed...”  In verse 13 where the NIV says banquet, the KJV says feast, which is how I first read it last week.  The verses rang in my ear for several days, and I figured the Lord had a feast in mind for me.  But how do I do this?  Whom do I invite?  On Sunday, I sat in church with these verses still floating in my head, and the idea hit me to invite a guy who was sitting across the aisle.  I explained to my husband about Luke 14 this week and ran the lunch idea by him.  I offered the invitation to our church-mate on the aisle and was so happy for him to accept, but then I wondered, “Lord, is this a feast for just the 3 of us?”  I walked into the hallway and found my husband talking to someone, whom he promptly told me he had invited to lunch as well.  Now our feast was for 4.  And so we agreed upon pizza and proceeded in our separate cars to the nearby Pizza Hut.  My husband drove, and my heart danced the whole way to recount how this occasion was developing.  It was a case of literally living out the Bible.  Blessings poured amidst our afternoon conversation, and we learned about some business concerns for our first guest.  Time to pray with him fit wonderfully atop our empty Meat Lover’s Pizza tray.  We had the added blessing too of looking forward to seeing our new friends again the next week.  It was as if watching each separate link, each separate event, adding one by one into God's perfect chain of events.  Almost effortless on my part it seemed, having simply begun one ordinary day while sitting on an ordinary couch to open the pages of the Bible, which is forever extraordinary. 

Raised, furled, & awkwardly employed

That look of bewilderment.  I’ve been on the receiving end of it lately.  I’ve witnessed the occasional furled upper lip and definitely the awkward pause inserted into conversation.  My lack of a full-time job has seemed to be culprit for causing these puzzled reactions.  Maybe more accurately the problem has been my lack of automatic desire for full-time work.  Recently I discussed with someone about different types of work.  Unintentionally my half of our conversation centered on volunteering, and by the time we finally talked about my new employment at the community college, I heard her words spoken almost in exasperation, “Do they pay you for that?”  I noticed the tilt of her head and the near-snarl of her lip and wondered if she really meant, “Surely you bring in some kind of income, don’t you?”  On another occasion with a different person, I caught the ogling eye that politely insinuated, “How can you be satisfied with volunteering and unpaid roles?”  Maybe in this case she more pointedly meant, “Why would you want to be satisfied with unpaid roles?”  When I began teaching piano at home, I asked the Lord if I should charge a lesson fee, and if so, how much.  Such joy comes in the teaching of music, yet fees can run $25 for a 30-minute slot easily, and consequently lessons for many become an impossibility.  When I told a friend I charged $15 per lesson, she responded, “Why?  You know you can charge more, don’t you?”  All I know is that I prayed and felt inclined toward $15.  I do realize I fit neither the career mold nor the stay-at-home mold.  Honestly I want only the follow-the-Lord mold, and that’s one that has many different appearances.  All across the years of my variety of jobs, whether full-time pay, part-time pay, or no pay at all, the Lord has provided abundantly for my family the necessities of living.  Yet my friends’ recent facial expressions have reminded me that we’re strangers in this world (1 Peter 2:11).  Occasionally we’re strangers among our fellow Christians, though we love them all the same.  And actually, when we pause and rethink why we do what we do, it can be a good thing—raised eyebrows and all.

A plea from within HEB

Money was tight.  Chemo and radiation had cost thousands upon thousands already.  She’d endured all shapes and sizes of medical procedures.  Now that she was somewhat recuperated, my friend had been applying for jobs, but to no avail.  This particular day called for a trip to the local HEB grocery store.  Whether contemplating chicken or hamburger, or choosing between sliced bread and tortillas, my friend debated the purchase of each item.  Pressure mounted, as she knew her shopping list usually tallied $200, though her purse held $40 less this time.  It was the culmination of all kinds of anxiety.  Finally she pleaded, “Lord, You know how much money I have.  I’ll grab what I think I need, and if it’s too much at the cash register, I’ll just return some.”  So she pushed her basket up and down the aisles, pulling from the shelves what she thought best and looking for the Lord’s peace in the process.  The cashier’s conveyor belt fed each item toward the scanner.  Total = $160 exactly!  I can still see the thrill in her eyes from when she retold the story last weekend.  In her weariness, she had called upon the Lord.  He’d been with her through all the physical agony, and He was with her still now.  For this child whom He loves dearly, and for her husband, her daughters, and her mom, His light shined brightly. 

God, my banker

Have you ever sensed God speaking to you through someone else?  This week I was inspired through the voice of a particular man.  From the moment I met him, I felt blessed.  We had talked probably 5 minutes, and suddenly he threw in a zinger.  “Let God be your banker,” he uttered.  I had mentioned nothing to him about the dollar signs dancing in my head.  Ideas about books, and music, and coffeehouses, and questions of how financially they could all work together had felt cluttered in my brain.  This man’s words zeroed right in to quell any worry.  In a sort of teaching mode while he spoke, his forefinger pointed in the air and then at me, so I was sure to hear.  And what set the whole stage for me to keenly listen was his earlier comment on planting seeds and watering them and scattering stones.  At first I thought of 1 Corinthians 3, but the part about scattering stones I had recently read in Ecclesiastes.  Interestingly I had taught on those exact verses a couple of Sundays ago, so my attention was certainly drawn, as if looking up to find myself sitting in the Lord’s classroom with Him personally teaching me in the moment.  Simply I had entered the doors of the hospital that day, unaware of how the Lord would connect me in conversation.  Forever He is weaving His goodness amongst and within.

The book of Job + $1.10

In San Antonio, $1.10 buys a seat on the bus.  Yesterday I wanted to meet my husband close to where he works across town, and then we’d drive together to church.  I paid my $1.10 on the 648, chose a seat near the front, and began reading the book of Job.  Poor Job is having a hard time, and actually that’s a huge understatement because Satan is afflicting him intensely.  I’m reading where Job is losing his livestock, his servants, and his family, and suddenly I hear a man’s voice and look up to acknowledge him taking the seat behind me.  He had recognized my Bible’s columnar pages and smiled to say he enjoyed reading too.  Genesis was the book that really made him think, he said.  He elaborated a bit, and all the while he spoke, my heart was leaping to realize this was no ordinary bus ride.  I was sitting in the midst of the Lord at work.  He was transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary.  As an orchestra conductor might cue the clarinets alongside the violas, the Lord had cued my new neighbor and me to meet on the bus that afternoon.  Only the Lord’s orchestra is exponentially more vast.  He brought joy into the hearts of 2 people who until recently had lived in distant parts of the world.  Yet never is the Lord far from His children, nor is a day with Him ever humdrum.  Especially in those occasions like Job’s when the afflictions of Satan excruciate, we find peace in knowing the Lord is near.

Curly ribbon & waiting

The prize was $10 for guessing closest to the actual number of jelly beans in the jar.  I waged my guess at 171, and soon I merrily tucked $10 into my purse.  Should I buy lunch at Chick-fil-A?  Maybe Pei Wei?  The answer was neither.  I had asked the Lord what to do, and thereafter I kept picturing the face of a new friend.  I wanted to compile a care package for her, in hope of easing the near-exhaustion she felt from travelling so many weekends.  Ten dollars would buy her some healthful snacks for the road and some other things just for fun.  For her early mornings, I bought Target’s version of Nutri-Grain berry bars.  Just for fun, I bought some Bugles, some peanut M&Ms, and a few other items.  A bottle of green tea can be refreshing anytime, so I put one of those in the basket too.  At home, I bundled everything together and added purple and green curly ribbons dangling on the outside and stamped her a colorful card that included Philippians 1:3, because each remembrance of her really does sweeten my day.  The next Sunday, I would be so happy to present her the gift.  But next Sunday I didn’t see her.  The Sunday after that, I didn’t see her.  The next month, I didn’t see her.  Two months later, I still hadn’t seen her.  Four months later, still no sign of her, and truly my heart was heavy.  Each Sunday morning, I put her package in the car, and each Sunday afternoon, I took the undelivered package back into the house.  I fluffed the ribbons back into place, smoothing their creases, and placed the package again in its weekday residence on my dresser.  I held such high hope for seeing my friend again.  Occasionally the notion surfaced to unwrap everything and piece the items apart into our kitchen pantry, but entertaining that thought made me feel I was abandoning the whole friendship.  From the start, I had felt strongly compelled to prepare this package, and here now I determined again to hold on and keep asking the Lord for another opportunity to see my friend.  And then it happened.  Almost 6 months of waiting, and there she was.  I walked in late and sat on the opposite side of the congregation.  Peering to the side, I noticed her distinctively dark curly hair flowing near her shoulders.  I could feel the corners of my mouth jump up into a smile.  Even more, I could feel my heart swell.  The hard part would be waiting till after the sermon to leap across the aisle to give her the biggest hug ever.  She explained her absence, and I explained my care package.  It was an occasion that brought immense joy for having waited upon what the Lord set in motion months before.  In the words of Philippians 1:6, what He had begun, He had carried to completion. 

Guidance . . . why wait? (Part 2)

The Lord had given me Psalm 25 to memorize.  I did start the process from the first verse onward.  Some months later, my principal advised that the school would not renew my teaching contract.  Suddenly I felt bruised and shaky.  My head whirled fast like a tornado was crashing everything inside.  Sometimes I couldn’t sleep at night, and still too I felt sorry for my principal, who had clearly been through a wrestling match himself in preparing to deliver me the news.  Looking at my span of teaching years, I was going from Teacher of the Year at one school to losing my job at another.  Yet soon I began to see the beauty of the Lord’s guidance.  One sleepless night, He reminded me that no one whose hope is in Him will ever be put to shame.  In the midst of my wounds and weakness, He was showing me verse 3 of Psalm 25 all over again.  He knew I would need to rely on those words, and He enabled me to recite that psalm, even amidst the agonizing pain that had swallowed me whole.  I kept asking the Lord to lead me through, and I sensed Him saying to keep in mind these two words: honesty and respect.  And indeed the two words held crucial in dealing with bitterness among students and fellow teachers for all kinds of reasons in the remaining weeks of school.  One weekend, my daughter was checking her financial account online for college, and she asked, “Hey, Mom, what’s all this new money doing in my account?”  I cry still today to realize how the Lord increased her scholarships to compensate for the fact that I wouldn’t be teaching the next year.  And at school I had multiple opportunities to tell my students how the Lord was providing for my family and that He would provide for them too.  The Lord’s blessings were abundant, pouring through words of kindness from many directions.  I pondered whether the Lord could call someone to lose their job, and I knew the answer was ‘yes.’  He calls people to lose their lives sometimes, and certainly He could call someone to testify in losing their job.  Mine was a painstaking experience that is now a favorite story.  The Lord had guided me all along—before the storm and through it as well.

A toothbrush, a mattress, & generosity

A young lady rode 2 buses across many miles of our city, from south to north, all for the sake of donating a new toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste.  She called out from across the parking lot in hope she wasn’t too late to give with the radiothon that would benefit local flood victims.  Another family drove up with a well-used mattress, held in place atop their station wagon by 6 arms stretched up and out the open windows.  Their generous contribution may have left part of the family sleeping on bare floor that night.  Altogether, people donated a truckload of food, thousands of dollars, and over a hundred pints of blood.  It was a wonderful occasion that caused me to check my pulse once again.  How do I give?  Do I dig deep to give wholeheartedly, or do I merely skim off the top?  Is there anything I grip too tightly for myself?  And why did I almost cry to read about the young lady traversing the city on 2 buses?  It’s partly because I’ve ridden our buses, and I know how the different routes can take half-hours and hours to connect, and I love this young lady’s willingness and determination to give. God has these gentle ways of inspiring us—sometimes through written stories, like the one by Sonny Melendrez in Welcome Home that reflected recently on San Antonio's flood days of 1998; sometimes through song lyrics; sometimes through photographs of people we’ll never meet and who have no idea we notice their example.  The last verses of 1 Timothy talk about a generous heart laying up treasure.  I ask the Lord to lead me to be generous.

Not nice & neat

Christianity is not nice and neat.  It’s about people’s lives changing and people realizing their need for Jesus.  Often we have to become pained and uncomfortable in order to see our need.  Take the disruptive child who’s starved for attention and makes his occasions unbearable for everyone.  All you want to do is have your kid nice and neat in church choir, and here’s this thorny scenario causing you to dread one rehearsal to the next. Then take the guy who monopolizes the adult study group, and you catch yourself hoping he’s absent next Sunday.  And you’d been so happy to finally be part of Bible study, until he showed up.  What about the time I’d been reading about generosity in 2 Corinthians 8, and the Lord put beside me on the bus a lady whose wonderful generosity challenged me?  Those words in Corinthians weren’t meant to stay nice and neat on the page.  They’re for real life, and the lady with the salsa was the Lord’s way of opening my eyes and stretching me into action.  Following the Lord certainly keeps us from stirring ourselves some additional problems, but sometimes He Himself has reason to stretch us beyond our comfort.  One time my husband and I taught a kindergarten class with a rambunctious little boy who we thought never listened, yet later his mom told us how carefully he recited at home the details of our Sunday class, well within earshot of a dad who didn’t attend church.  Suddenly we're so happy for the family's sake, and our classroom frustration didn't seem to matter.  Another time I remember listening to KLOVE radio and contemplating a financial donation, asking the Lord to prompt the same idea out of my husband’s mouth if we were supposed to give.  Shortly thereafter we’re in the car when the radio station again mentions their pledge campaign, and my husband says, “Maybe we should donate to KLOVE.”  Sometimes I hold onto money too tightly, but this time I saw the Lord leading, so we found joy in pulling out the checkbook and putting the envelope in the mail.  When the Lord stretches us, it’s the perfect exercise.  Maybe not our idea of nice and neat, maybe causing us to go cross-eyed in pain, maybe for reason we can't see right then, but still perfect.