Chance Meetings?

The beginning of the year is a good time to look ahead and to make some changes. In my case I decided that twelve years working in the same piano store in Poughkeepsie, New York was long enough.I had gone about as far as I could go working in this family-owned store. Besides, twelve years of upstate New York winters was enough. It was time to move to Florida. When I informed Jon Vincitore, the owner of the store, he urged me to stay one more year. I agreed to stay until the fall.

In the spring I attended a national conference and met the owners of a piano store in Sarasota, Florida. They invited me down to Florida for an interview. I told a regular customer and former employee of the Poughkeepsie store, John DelVecchio, that I was going to Sarasota.

“Maybe you’ll bump into my cousin, Ray White. He can play the drum, guitar and he can sing. You’ll like him. He is doing construction right now somewhere in the Sarasota/Bradenton area.”

“Do you have a number I can call or an address?” He had neither.

In July I flew to Sarasota for my interview with the principles of O’Lynn Callahan Piano and Organ at the Corner of Bee Ridge and Tamiami Trail. The interview went well and I followed them to look at their new store in Venice, a twenty minute drive south. Before the morning was over we agreed I would manage their Venice store in the fall.

On the way back up Route 41 I was driving through Osprey when I saw a sign “Condo for Rent.” I stopped and within an hour I had made a deposit on it. I now had a job and a place to stay when I returned. I had accomplished in a half day what I thought would take me several days. Now it was time to look around.

I drove into Sarasota Square Mall. Walking through that mall I ran across a piano/organ store with several young men taking turns playing an organ set up in front of the store. As I lingered to watch a little guy walked up to me and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Oh,” I said, “ I’m just looking around. I just flew down from Poughkeepsie, N.Y. for an interview,”

“Poughkeepsie Huh? Do you happen to know John DelVecchio?” he asked.

“RAY? RAY WHITE?”

I don’t know who was more surprised, Ray. or me. Turns out he had left construction recently and this was his second day at this store. While neither of us was particularly religious at that point we both agreed our meeting this way, “Must be a God thing.” I still get goose bumps when I recall that moment.

Before moving to Florida I set out to say goodbye to family and special friends living in New York and New England. However, saying goodbye to Uncle Dennis was going to be a challenge. No one knew exactly where he was living, somewhere in the Berkshires was what I was told.

One day while driving the Mass Pike to return to Poughkeepsie I intentionally pulled off at the Lee/ Barrington exit for the Berkshires to see if I could find a phone book and locate Uncle Dennis. Besides I was hungry and wanted something to eat. Coming off the exit there is a town to the left and one to the right. It didn’t seem to matter which way I went but something made me feel I should go right. I drove by several fast food drive-ins that I normally would have driven into and continued down main street to the end of the business district. There at the end was a diner with a single parking space open right in front.

As I walked up the steps to the entrance I saw there was one man sitting at the counter. The back of his head looked familiar. Could it be? It was him! I slipped in and sat beside the man at the counter and said casually, “Hello Dennis.”

He told me he lived in the town to the left of the exit but he often came to this diner. He especially liked the pies here. If I had tried to look him up in the phonebook I would not have found him. He didn’t have a phone. I had a nice visit with Dennis that day and actually returned two weeks later to his home where I presented him with a guitar that I knew he wanted.

Ray White and I became partners in a band and played together for several years in Florida. We also both became Christians and Ray is now a worship pastor at a church and goes on frequent missions trips to Africa. I play regularly at worship services for a church and I have also started my own company, Worship Media Solutions, helping churches with their sound and video needs.

As busy as I am, I try to stay attentive to any unexplained prodding or feelings. For example, the other day I left my house to get a haircut when I felt a strong urge to stop at the Living Word Book Store and see Jesse Ramos. So I drove out of my way to the bookstore. In the parking lot I passed a woman walking to her car. I felt I should speak to her but I didn’t know what to say and being basically shy I walked by as she stopped and opened the trunk of a car. As I walked into the store there was Jesse at the counter holding my calling card in his hand and waving his arm at me.

“Hey Rick, there was a gal in here whose church needs your services. She just left.”

“She’s there putting something in her trunk,” I said.

He looked out the store window, “Yeah that’s her how did you know?”

How did I know? How do I explain my bumping into Ray White out of the thousands of people who live and work in Sarasota County? What directed me to that diner in the Berkshires that afternoon I found Uncle Dennis? Why did needing to see Jesse Ramos come to my mind when I started off for a haircut?

Were these all chance meetings? I don’t think so, not for a minute.

Rick Furrow
Formerly Poughkeepsie, New York
now Sarasota, Florida

Away at Christmas

December 22

My first Christmas away was courtesy of the U.S. Army. I was stationed in the tropics and it didn't look or feel like Christmas. For a Northern guy palm trees with lights, carboard snowman on lawns and temperatures in the 80's wasn't Christmas.

For me Christmas was the smell of evergreens, real snowmen, and a chilly breeze in the face. This soldier was homesick and having a real pitty party for himself. Christmas carols on the radio depressed me and the few Christmas cards I received made me feel worse.

Some enterprizing GI's had parked a tank near the commissary with eight jeeps in front of it simulating reindeer connected to the tank by ammunition belts. There was even a stuffed Santa
waving from the open tank turret. This really set me off.

On Christmas Eve I took my bad attitude and shuffled off to the post chapel. It was a candle light service with the singing of traditional carols and the reading of familiar passages from Luke.
I sat quietly through it all.

I exited the chapel into a perfectly clear warm tropical night with a gentle breeze. A small voice in my head said something that changed everything for me. It made me realize Christmas isn't the Currier and Ives pictures or any family traditions I remembered. These are not the reason for the season.

When I looked outside the chapel and saw all the stars I heard in my head, "Remember the first Christmas was in a desert."

I don't recall what the chaplain said that night but the message was loud and clear:
"Behold, there is great joy, for in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior who is Christ the Lord. Glory to God and peace on earth."

Charles Miller
Burlington, Vt.

Road Sign

I recently moved to Minnesota from Florida. As I was driving home from a job interview my mind started to wonder. I thought about my future in this new state. Lord am I suppose to take this job or the one I interviewed for yesterday? I was getting tired of waiting for what God has for me next. I could feel myself getting anxious as I was thinking about money. Can I afford to live alone? How much longer can I work just part time without health care benefits? How much time off will I get and what about the holidays, and on and on and on.

At this point I realized the beautiful city backdrop of buildings sparkling in the sunlight was behind me. Seeing the city skyline is one of my favorite views and somehow, as I looked at my new home city rushing past my car window, I had relaxed and been lost in my thoughts. I had missed my exit and was in unfamiliar territory. As I looked to get my bearings I saw a bright yellow sign ahead. I struggled to read it, and as I got closer, I thought I saw the word trust. I laughed out loud for there, in big letters, and I am not kidding were the words-”TRUST ME!” – God.

Even though I was traveling seventy miles an hour, I felt like time had just stopped. With a chuckle I let go of all those thoughts and decided to do what I was told and leave the details up to God and to TRUST HIM.

As I drove off the expressway and turned my car around to find my way back to a familiar highway, I knew it was no mistake that I had become lost and saw that yellow billboard. Also in that moment of quietness I recalled that in the morning I had asked God to reveal himself to me with this interview and to make it obvious what I was to do. He made it obvious. God continues to amaze and amuse me.

Beth Bishop
Minneapolis, Minnesota

A Healing in Providence

I was graduated from Holy Cross High School in Waterbury, Connecticut, Class of 1975. One of my best friends, Bobby Blacker heard there was going to be a faith healer appearing at the Providence Civic Center. A small group of us decide to make the trip from Waterbury to Providence Rhode Island to ask for a miracle of healing for Bobby’s brother who has been severely handicapped, physically and mentally, since birth.

The Providence Civic Center was packed by the time we got there. I couldn’t make it inside so I hung around one of the corner entrances hoping for a chance to gian entrance. Nearby a small group gathered in prayer.

I wandered over and listened to the young man who was leading the prayer. I also noticed a young woman standing in the circle who seemed to be pregnant but only on one side of her stomach. After the group prayed for some other people, the young woman spoke up and told the prayer leader that she had been suffering from a disease that had left a very large tumor in her abdomen. She said the doctors could not help her condition and she asked for healing prayers to be lifted up over her. I join the others in the prayers.

The prayer leader placed his hands on her abdomen and the group prayed out loud and silently for Jesus to heal the woman. To my amazement I watched as the tumor began to shrink and her stomach begin to flatten out. It must have been about ten minutes that we prayed for the woman, and by the time it was over, she was weeping and thanking everyone because her tumor had vanished.

I did make it into the Civic Center before the rally was over. Bobby’s younger brother was not healed, but I had witnessed a miracle healing that day. Praise the Lord.

Paul Boiano
Vernon, Connecticut

A Message for the President

We sometimes deprive ourselves of incredibly extraordinary experiences because we don’t believe they could happen; at least not to us. We underestimate what life has in store for us and what God is capable of accomplishing. With this in mind, I share my family’s experience in Washington, D.C. last June.

I had been invited to a medical meeting in our nation’s capital and my wife Lisa and our two younger children, Sam (11) and Lydia (7) came along to visit the monuments and see the sites.

The venue for the meeting was the St. Regis Hotel, two blocks from the White House. I thought, “wouldn’t it be something if somehow we could tour the White House and meet the President.” But I knew that would be impossible.


On our first full day in D.C. we walked from our hotel toward the White House. As we approached Lafayette Square, a block from the White House, we were struck by a small but quaint St. John’s church where every U.S. president since Madison has worshipped. It has come to be known as “the Presidents’ Church.” I was sensing a strange inexplicable compulsion to go inside.

No one was inside except an “official-looking” lady on a cell phone. She pointed out where the current president sat when he would occasionally visit. It was where his father sat. The lady asked Lisa if we would be in town Sunday morning. Lisa said, “Yes.”

“Well,” the lady said, “I just got the call. The President and Mrs. Bush are going to be here for the 7:45 service and take Communion.”

We were determined to be there Sunday. Sam was particularly excited at the thought of having his first Communion with the President of the United States. He had only brought jeans and felt they were inappropriate for church and asked that we buy him khakis. We did.

We awoke Sunday to thunderstorms and heavy rain. My first thought was that we were going to get soaked walking to church. I also thought the President might cancel because of the rain, or something important came up preventing him from coming. As these thoughts entered my mind I read from Sam’s Bible and prayed. I first read Proverbs 21:1, “The king’s heart is in the Lord’s hand and He directs it as a watercourse,” substituting “president” for “king.” As I was thinking about the President with all the challenges he faces, I felt a strong compulsion to read Psalm 21, which I rarely read. As I read, I experienced an overwhelming feeling I was to give it to President Bush when I saw him. The essence of this Psalm is the king’s (president’s) expression of trust and confidence in God to protect him and to deal with his enemies. He acknowledges God as the One who placed him in his present position of power. I did not share this with Lisa at the time but later, after the events of the day, she indicated she felt that morning I would be speaking to the President.

With borrowed umbrellas from the hotel, we proceeded to the church in the rain. The little church was literally “crawling” with secret service agents. We had to wait for bomb-sniffing dogs to finish their work before we went through security. Hardly anyone was there. We estimated 30 people; at least half were probably secret service

At 7:40, the President and Mrs. Bush came through the front door on the right. Proverbs 21:1 came over me in a surrealistic way. They walked across the front of the church, turned down the aisle on the left next to where we were seated and sat a row behind us across the aisle.

Early into the service, we were asked to stand and greet those around us. Lisa, Sam and I turned and greeted the President and Mrs. Bush with handshakes and exchanges of “Peace be with you.” At that moment, I did not think it appropriate to say anything else to the President.

Intermittently through the service, Sam would turn his head slightly to peek at the President. The President would note this, responding with a wink and a smile each time. The President took his church bulletin, signed it “Best Wishes”, and handed it to Sam. Mrs. Bush gave hers to the President informing him Sam had a sister. The President signed it and handed it to Sam saying, “Give this to your sister.”

We were invited forward to the alter to receive Communion. As our family proceeded down the aisle, a lady in a pew on the right appeared as if she wanted to be let in so Sam and I backed up to let her in. In so doing, unknowingly President and Mrs. Bush were placed in line behind us. Thus, when it came time to take Communion, we found ourselves kneeling with them to receive the wafer and wine. The order was Sam, I, Lisa, Mrs. Bush and the President.

Upon returning to our pew, I turned to seat myself and found the President right next to me. I said, “Mr. President this morning as I was praying for you, I felt moved to read Psalm 21. I would like to give it to you.” He thanked me and shook my hand.

When the service came to a close, the President and Mrs. Bush were escorted from their seats. He waved to us and said, “See you guys later.”

I said, “God bless you Mr. President.”

He replied, “Thank you sir.”

It all seemed like a dream except we had two signed church bulletins, which told us otherwise. We stepped out of the church into a deluge and arrived at our hotel soaked to the bone. We didn’t mind. We had just been showered with blessings from God.

I do not know if the President read Psalm 21. I do know a short time afterwards the President came under extreme criticism for his conduct of the war in Iraq and his popularity hit an all time low. I believe the Psalm would have been a great comfort to him.

Ronald Aung-Din
Sarasota, Fl.