I love my God. So when people would share how God clearly spoke to them and they were going to do something out of clearly hearing God’s word, I would become puzzled and often wonder, “Why isn’t God talking to me?”
Well, in the fall of 2005 a thought came to mind. It was that I should maybe consider moving back to St. Louis (I had been in Florida for 5 years.) When I left St. Louis I had experienced a very painful divorce and a lot of heartache so I never felt it was a place I would return to live. This idea continued to come up in my quiet time and I did not understand.
Pastor Brian’s sermons were jumping out at me. He talked about quiet time, taking time to really spend with God in prayer and adoration. Let me tell you, it is awesome what we can hear from our Lord when we are quiet and consistently seek his word and desire for us.
Two months into this, I was going back home to St. Louis for Christmas. I was clearly hearing from God that He wanted me to return permanently, but I had never experienced this before, so I was wanting to make sure I was getting it right.
I have a dear friend,Mary, a woman who truly walks and talks with our God. What Faith she has. She sent me to Florida with much love and blessings and over the past five years never once asked, “When are you coming home?” So I prayed to God to please somehow reveal to me through Mary that this is what He wanted me to do.
Six of us ladies, friends for almost 30 years, meet for lunch while I am in St. Louis. As we are leaving, my friend Mary pulls me aside and says, “Debbie, God has really put you on my heart for the past several months. I think it is time you came home.” (I began to tremble inside because I knew God was letting me know His desire for me.)
I jokingly said to her, “One problem, I need a job”. Then she proceeded to tell me another “God Thing”. Two days earlier a friend of hers, whom she had not talked to in months, just showed up at her door. Mary claims this Nurse Recruiter friend has never done such a thing before. She would normally call and ask to come by and visit. She told Mary she did not know why God led her to the house that morning, but just felt a strong need to visit her friend. During the conversation, she told Mary she was in need of a Nurse Case Manager and did she know of anyone. Oddly enough, Mary tells her that we are having lunch in two days and she would discuss it with me. Mary then tells me to fax my resume to Karen and let God do the rest.
I shared with her what I had been praying for and how she revealed to me this is what God desires for me and I want and must be obedient. We both began to cry and thank God for his goodness.
I returned to Florida, put my condo up for sale and had a telephone interview for the Nurse Case Manager position the very next week. I have clearly heard God’s word to me and as frightening as a move, new job, etc. seems, I am excited and must be obedient. I don’t know what God has in store for me in St. Louis, but what ever it is, I will be able to get through it because I love my Lord and He is always with me. He is my Rock and my strength and is ever present.
I encourage you to spend quiet time with the Lord. Pray, read scripture and then, most importantly, be still, “listen, and know that I am God.” We MUST listen to God and be obedient to his will in our life.
Debbie Houston
St. Louis, Missouri
Friday, May 30, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
The Lost Book
My friend Janae is seeing her daughter off to school when she does a foolish thing. She places a small book on the bumper of her Suv while she helps her daughter Sidney into a friend’s vehicle who is the designated driver for the car pool this day. Janae tells herself she will remember to retrieve the book before driving off. Of course she forgets.
It isn’t until Janae returns home that she remembers the little book. Naturally it is no longer on the bumper. This book had been her companion since she received it as a gift a week earlier. She drives back over the route she had traveled that morning but there is no evidence of the little book.
At noon I am at my hairdresser’s. While Lisa is doing my hair she tells me that her husband Joe came by her shop earlier and dropped off a book he had found in the middle of Bahia Vista Road. When he saw this book in the middle of the road he just pulled over. Before he could get to it, two cars ran over it.”
The battered book is a copy of Joyce Meyers, The Secret Power of Speaking God’s Word.
“Joe really got into the book,” Lisa said, “particularly the chapter on anger. He has been angry with God all these years since the accident so it was good for him to read about that. Then he noticed the handwriting inside the front cover, ‘To Janae from Wendy,’ and brought the book here.
You are a Christian woman Deb do you know a woman named Janae?”
“I know a Wendy and a Janae. They both go to my church.”
I called Wendy on her cell phone and yes she had given a copy of the book to Janae. Wendy called Janae who then called us at the shop to confirm that she had lost the book while driving that morning.
Lisa gave me the book to return to Janae. On my way I stopped by The Living Word book store and purchased a new copy of Meyer’s book.
Janae inscribed the new copy, thanking Joe for finding and returning hers. I added, “Joe: I know God wanted you to have this book.”
Deborah Smith
Sarasota, Florida.
It isn’t until Janae returns home that she remembers the little book. Naturally it is no longer on the bumper. This book had been her companion since she received it as a gift a week earlier. She drives back over the route she had traveled that morning but there is no evidence of the little book.
At noon I am at my hairdresser’s. While Lisa is doing my hair she tells me that her husband Joe came by her shop earlier and dropped off a book he had found in the middle of Bahia Vista Road. When he saw this book in the middle of the road he just pulled over. Before he could get to it, two cars ran over it.”
The battered book is a copy of Joyce Meyers, The Secret Power of Speaking God’s Word.
“Joe really got into the book,” Lisa said, “particularly the chapter on anger. He has been angry with God all these years since the accident so it was good for him to read about that. Then he noticed the handwriting inside the front cover, ‘To Janae from Wendy,’ and brought the book here.
You are a Christian woman Deb do you know a woman named Janae?”
“I know a Wendy and a Janae. They both go to my church.”
I called Wendy on her cell phone and yes she had given a copy of the book to Janae. Wendy called Janae who then called us at the shop to confirm that she had lost the book while driving that morning.
Lisa gave me the book to return to Janae. On my way I stopped by The Living Word book store and purchased a new copy of Meyer’s book.
Janae inscribed the new copy, thanking Joe for finding and returning hers. I added, “Joe: I know God wanted you to have this book.”
Deborah Smith
Sarasota, Florida.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
God's Healing Touch
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5-6.
Saturday, September 2nd, was a gorgeous, end-of-summer day. Marla and the four boys spent the day at Uncle Rich’s house in Monson, Massachusetts, as Chip flew back from an out-of-state conference.
Jared, age 31/2, was walking along the lawn at the top of a six-foot retaining wall next to the driveway when he slipped in some sand and fell to the pavement below, landing on his forehead. Uncle Rich heard the impact as Jared hit the driveway and ran over as Jared stood up bawling and clutching a big scrape on his forehead.
Rich brought Jared inside to Marla and laid him on the couch. She said, “Jared, open your eyes.” He did—and one eye looked at her, while the other was angled strangely away toward the ground. Fearing a serious head injury, 9-1-1 was called.
Jared continued to cry, and Marla, Rich and the boys gathered around him and began to pray. Marla laid her hand on Jared’s head as she prayed specifically for healing.
Ben and Brian did their best to help by announcing each emergency vehicle as it arrived. Chris was very upset and crying, first staying near Jared, then hiding in the house as rescuers arrived. Police officers arrived, then Monson Fire Department EMTs came on the scene and quickly immobilized him on a backboard. As they were strapping him in, Jared suddenly cried out “Ow, it’s burning!” and grabbed at his forehead. After this he was more calm and subdued.
Marla rode with him in the ambulance on the 25-minute trip to Bay State Medical Center in Springfield, while Rich followed with the boys in the van. On the way, Jared became less and less responsive and then fell asleep. Was he exhausted from crying and missing his nap? Or was this a sign of brain swelling? Concerned about this change, the EMTs tried to keep Jared awake and called for a paramedic unit to meet them on the way to the hospital.
Jared’s left eye was now totally swollen shut, bulging from the bleeding behind the eyelid, and scowling a dark, angry purple.
A paramedic unit from Ludlow Fire Department met up with the ambulance, and the medic started an IV, hooked up a heart monitor, and gave other advanced life-support care. Knowing that everything was being done that could be done, Marla was able to let her tears flow. As a pediatric nurse, she had cared for many children with head trauma and was well aware of the potential for a devastating outcome.
At the ER Jared was scanned, X-rayed, poked and prodded. His brothers got to see Jared, and had their many questions answered by the excellent Child Life staff person. Chris was afraid Jared would be operated on and was very relieved to find no surgery was needed. Jared was diagnosed with a non-displaced skull fracture over the left eye, extending into the eye socket.
Thankfully the doctors could detect no bleeding in the brain. He was admitted for observation and, after finding a bed on the pediatric unit, he quickly fell into an exhausted sleep. Uncle Rich took the other three boys to his house overnight and left a message on Chip’s cell phone with details of the accident.
Chip landed at the airport at 10:30 p.m. and got the message off his cell phone. It was a quick trip up I-91 to Bay State, all the while making phone calls to
mobilize prayer support. Chip walked onto the pediatric floor to find Jared asleep, being cuddled by Marla. His left eye was bulging, black and blue, so swollen the lashes were out of sight. He had a three-inch circular abrasion on his forehead, scrapes on his face and left ear, and an IV slowly dripping into his arm. Marla slept in the bed with him, and he was being awakened hourly to check responsiveness. Interestingly, Jared never complained of pain.
We prayed over him. He awakened around 1:00 a.m. and spoke clearly with Marla about the entire incident. Marla felt her worries melting away, replaced with a peace and assurance that Jared would be okay.
By the next afternoon his spirits had improved. He got to play with toys and ride a tricycle around the pediatric unit. Uncle Rich brought the three other boys to visit, and Grandma and Grandpa drove up to see him. By late Sunday afternoon the pediophthalmologist pronounced him fit for discharge, and he was home for dinner.
The swelling should have taken about a week to disappear, but it was nearly gone in three days. His bruising could have taken two to three weeks to fully disappear, but it was gone in one week. We were amazed at his quick recovery.
We know that with God involved we should not have been surprised, but it was rather incredible to see the healing!
As a family, we all read “Curious George Goes to the Hospital” and Jared recognized many things from his experience—nurses, name bracelets, X-ray machines, the tricycles, and the IV. It was a good way for him to talk about his experience and compare what happened to him with what “George” went through. It was also good for the brothers to see what happened to George and learn that the same things had happened to Jared, lessoning the mystery of “behind closed doors.”
In follow-up exams, Jared was found to have no lasting injury of any kind. We thank God for many things! The fall could easily have injured Jared much more severely, but it didn’t. We had quick responses from competent professional caregivers up and down the chain. Modern medicine was able to quickly dispel fears about the severity of the head injury. Our family was supportive and involved throughout. Rich (who is a single guy) cared for Jared’s three brothers by himself for an extra day and made the key phone calls to Chip and family. We had prayer chains working overtime across the country. Pastor Jey and Joan Deifell personally checked on Jared’s progress about every four hours. God’s spirit worked mightily through the body.
In hindsight, we believe God healed Jared before he was put in the ambulance. Remember Jared saying “Ow, it’s burning?” There are many reports of spiritual healing associated with heat or a burning sensation. At the time, Jared’s cries seemed to be indicating further injury—but we believe God was healing Jared and then allowed him to fall into a restful sleep in the ambulance.
When we got to the hospital, his left eye was swollen shut, but when the doctor pried the lids apart to check it, both eyes were, miraculously, in perfect alignment. The doctor was baffled by this change from what Marla and the EMTs reported.
Despite his confirmed skull fracture, Jared didn’t complain of pain—but it all makes sense: God was there in power. We believe the relatively minor extent of Jared’s injuries and his fast and full recovery are due to guardian angels, God’s intervention, and answers to prayer. He is able! He hears and responds! He cares for us! Thank You, Jesus.
Chip and Marla Darius
Cromwell, Connecticut.
Copyright Thanks Be, First Church of Christ, Wethersfield, Ct.
Saturday, September 2nd, was a gorgeous, end-of-summer day. Marla and the four boys spent the day at Uncle Rich’s house in Monson, Massachusetts, as Chip flew back from an out-of-state conference.
Jared, age 31/2, was walking along the lawn at the top of a six-foot retaining wall next to the driveway when he slipped in some sand and fell to the pavement below, landing on his forehead. Uncle Rich heard the impact as Jared hit the driveway and ran over as Jared stood up bawling and clutching a big scrape on his forehead.
Rich brought Jared inside to Marla and laid him on the couch. She said, “Jared, open your eyes.” He did—and one eye looked at her, while the other was angled strangely away toward the ground. Fearing a serious head injury, 9-1-1 was called.
Jared continued to cry, and Marla, Rich and the boys gathered around him and began to pray. Marla laid her hand on Jared’s head as she prayed specifically for healing.
Ben and Brian did their best to help by announcing each emergency vehicle as it arrived. Chris was very upset and crying, first staying near Jared, then hiding in the house as rescuers arrived. Police officers arrived, then Monson Fire Department EMTs came on the scene and quickly immobilized him on a backboard. As they were strapping him in, Jared suddenly cried out “Ow, it’s burning!” and grabbed at his forehead. After this he was more calm and subdued.
Marla rode with him in the ambulance on the 25-minute trip to Bay State Medical Center in Springfield, while Rich followed with the boys in the van. On the way, Jared became less and less responsive and then fell asleep. Was he exhausted from crying and missing his nap? Or was this a sign of brain swelling? Concerned about this change, the EMTs tried to keep Jared awake and called for a paramedic unit to meet them on the way to the hospital.
Jared’s left eye was now totally swollen shut, bulging from the bleeding behind the eyelid, and scowling a dark, angry purple.
A paramedic unit from Ludlow Fire Department met up with the ambulance, and the medic started an IV, hooked up a heart monitor, and gave other advanced life-support care. Knowing that everything was being done that could be done, Marla was able to let her tears flow. As a pediatric nurse, she had cared for many children with head trauma and was well aware of the potential for a devastating outcome.
At the ER Jared was scanned, X-rayed, poked and prodded. His brothers got to see Jared, and had their many questions answered by the excellent Child Life staff person. Chris was afraid Jared would be operated on and was very relieved to find no surgery was needed. Jared was diagnosed with a non-displaced skull fracture over the left eye, extending into the eye socket.
Thankfully the doctors could detect no bleeding in the brain. He was admitted for observation and, after finding a bed on the pediatric unit, he quickly fell into an exhausted sleep. Uncle Rich took the other three boys to his house overnight and left a message on Chip’s cell phone with details of the accident.
Chip landed at the airport at 10:30 p.m. and got the message off his cell phone. It was a quick trip up I-91 to Bay State, all the while making phone calls to
mobilize prayer support. Chip walked onto the pediatric floor to find Jared asleep, being cuddled by Marla. His left eye was bulging, black and blue, so swollen the lashes were out of sight. He had a three-inch circular abrasion on his forehead, scrapes on his face and left ear, and an IV slowly dripping into his arm. Marla slept in the bed with him, and he was being awakened hourly to check responsiveness. Interestingly, Jared never complained of pain.
We prayed over him. He awakened around 1:00 a.m. and spoke clearly with Marla about the entire incident. Marla felt her worries melting away, replaced with a peace and assurance that Jared would be okay.
By the next afternoon his spirits had improved. He got to play with toys and ride a tricycle around the pediatric unit. Uncle Rich brought the three other boys to visit, and Grandma and Grandpa drove up to see him. By late Sunday afternoon the pediophthalmologist pronounced him fit for discharge, and he was home for dinner.
The swelling should have taken about a week to disappear, but it was nearly gone in three days. His bruising could have taken two to three weeks to fully disappear, but it was gone in one week. We were amazed at his quick recovery.
We know that with God involved we should not have been surprised, but it was rather incredible to see the healing!
As a family, we all read “Curious George Goes to the Hospital” and Jared recognized many things from his experience—nurses, name bracelets, X-ray machines, the tricycles, and the IV. It was a good way for him to talk about his experience and compare what happened to him with what “George” went through. It was also good for the brothers to see what happened to George and learn that the same things had happened to Jared, lessoning the mystery of “behind closed doors.”
In follow-up exams, Jared was found to have no lasting injury of any kind. We thank God for many things! The fall could easily have injured Jared much more severely, but it didn’t. We had quick responses from competent professional caregivers up and down the chain. Modern medicine was able to quickly dispel fears about the severity of the head injury. Our family was supportive and involved throughout. Rich (who is a single guy) cared for Jared’s three brothers by himself for an extra day and made the key phone calls to Chip and family. We had prayer chains working overtime across the country. Pastor Jey and Joan Deifell personally checked on Jared’s progress about every four hours. God’s spirit worked mightily through the body.
In hindsight, we believe God healed Jared before he was put in the ambulance. Remember Jared saying “Ow, it’s burning?” There are many reports of spiritual healing associated with heat or a burning sensation. At the time, Jared’s cries seemed to be indicating further injury—but we believe God was healing Jared and then allowed him to fall into a restful sleep in the ambulance.
When we got to the hospital, his left eye was swollen shut, but when the doctor pried the lids apart to check it, both eyes were, miraculously, in perfect alignment. The doctor was baffled by this change from what Marla and the EMTs reported.
Despite his confirmed skull fracture, Jared didn’t complain of pain—but it all makes sense: God was there in power. We believe the relatively minor extent of Jared’s injuries and his fast and full recovery are due to guardian angels, God’s intervention, and answers to prayer. He is able! He hears and responds! He cares for us! Thank You, Jesus.
Chip and Marla Darius
Cromwell, Connecticut.
Copyright Thanks Be, First Church of Christ, Wethersfield, Ct.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Helping Mother
I grew up in Bowling Green, Kentucky but have not lived there since 1969. I spent three months with my parents in the summer of 1991, before I returned to Mount St Mary’s Abbey in Wrentham Ma. as a Postulant (from the Latin word for one who seeks/asks).
My parents had been living in their same old Victorian home for 42 years when, in the summer of 2000, my father fell down the stairs. He was 87. It became clear that they had to move out of that house-and the sooner the better.Since neither of my two sisters could do all the necessary things to move my parents they called my superior, Mother Agnes, and told her my help was urgently needed.
During my stay in Bowling Green I attended daily Mass. I didn’t know many people, but several introduced themselves. One man who expressed his understanding that being away from my monastery must be difficult for me, gave me a box of candy made by our monks at Gethsemani -to sweeten my time of exile! It was such a very thoughtful gesture. I suspect I did not convey the depth of my gratitude for this kindness from a person whose name I didn’t know!By mid-February of 2001, my parents were settled in the retirement complex, we had sold their house and I returned to Wrentham. In July I was transferred to our daughter house in Crozet Va. where the sisters in this smaller community were planning a capital campaign to finish the building of the monastery there.
In June of 2002, my mother had a massive heart attack. I made an emergency trip to Bowling Green. We did not expect Mother to survive, but she did. About four months later, Daddy fell and broke his hip. He did fine with the surgery and post-operative care and therapy. Daddy was expected to return home from the nursing home when he died very suddenly. It was a shock. He was 87.
Mother and Daddy were married just four months less than 70 years.I stayed with her for about three weeks and then she visited my sister in Georgia and I returned to the monastery in Crozet
Four months after Mother returned to the retirement complex she fell and broke her hip. She managed the surgery and post-surgery rehabilitation very well. Even so, my sisters and I knew she would need someone with her 24 hours and 7 days a week.
When I came to care for Mother in December 2003, I didn’t know how long I would be needed. We had to approach the needs one day at a time. My sisters were very puzzled about how in the world I would cope with not having a car. I was not terribly concerned. In the monastery I was accustomed to staying at home all the time. I knew I could count on my sisters to visit at least once a month and to help us with grocery shopping if necessary. There were also some resources provided by the staff at the complex, which I felt sure we could manage for doctor appointments and other needs.
On the weekends when my sisters were able to come, I borrowed their cars to go to church. On one such occasion, I took a few moments to speak to the pastor about my situation and to ask for some one to bring communion. He quickly observed “You could really use a car. I’m sure there is someone here who has a car they could lend you.” I had not expected that response, and didn’t pursue it with Fr Jerry.
A few weeks later, my dear friend Joy called for a telephone visit. As is her practice, she concluded our conversation with prayer. She very specifically asked that God would send someone to assist us with a car. I was-as always-impressed with Joy’s confidence in the goodness of God and of other people, an uplifting witness to the loving generosity of our heavenly Father!
The next Monday morning, since my sister was in town, I borrowed her car and went to the daily Mass. At the close of the Mass andwithout any warning Fr Jerry announced to all that “Sr Linda-whom several of you remember-is here taking care of her mother, who is very sick. Sr Linda could really use a car. I know some of you have an extra one that you aren’t using, so if you can help, please let her know.” Then he walked to the back of the church to greet us as we left.
I was completely surprised, utterly unprepared. As I turned to make my way to the door, a man walked up to me and said “I have a car for you. Give me your address and phone number and I’ll have it delivered to you first thing tomorrow morning.” I was stunned. I fumbled for an appropriately HUGE word of gratitude as I wrote out my address and phone number. I remember saying “I don’t even know your name!” He did introduce himself as “John” and promised the car the following morning.
Sure enough, there was a call the next morning-followed shortly by the delivery of a perfect little silver-blue car-easy for Mother to get in and out of with walker and wheelchair. There were no questions asked, no strings or conditions attached, just a request that we let John or his assistant know if we needed anything. Fortunately, I had one of our monastery’s Gouda cheeses in the refrigerator in Mother’s kitchen. I quickly wrapped it, addressed it to John with a thank you note, and asked the driver to return it to John.
As it turned out, we had called Mother’s doctor that morning about a problem she was having, and had to rush her to his office within an hour of the arrival of that car! There have been several occasions on which I have thought, “how would we have managed without this car?”
As I prayed and pondered the goodness of God, the generosity of this person and his obvious goodness, I felt a need to write a thank you letter and describe our situation here a little more.
A few days later, I received a letter from John, thanking me for the letter and inviting me to dinner with him and his wife Chris at their home. I quickly checked with my sisters to see if either would be here for the weekend and able to stay with Mother. With that in place, I called and accepted with delight and some trepidation! After 14 years in the monastery my “going out to dinner experience” had grown rather rusty and dusty! I prepared a small flower arrangement from Mother’s garden to take along, and found myself at their door Saturday night. Warmly welcomed, I was still really tense! What to say! I thought, I can talk about the monastic life. They were both interested and attentive. It turns out they are both Benedictine Oblates of St Meinrad’s Archabbey in Indiana-near where Chris grew up. So! We have the Rule of St Benedict in common!
It was time for dinner. John had baked some wonderful bread and made a delicious Italian sauce and pasta. Chris made a great salad and the best dessert I’ve had in ages.
I still struggled with conversation at table, after 14 years of silent meals. At one point, I brought up the time I had spent in Bowling Green preparing to sell my parents house, and John said, “That’s when I first met you-remember? You were here during Christmas and I thought it must be a hard time to be away from the monastery, and gave you a box of Gethsemani’s bourbon fudge.” NOW I knew who that was!
Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, I’m realizing that God is using this whole period of my time here for an incredible array of purposes. Of course, I had no clue about what was coming when Joy prayed for a car, Fr Jerry made the appeal, and John responded-on the spot. I am continually reminded of the many blessings God is pouring out in my life and how poorly I make return for all that God gives me. Please help me say THANK YOU!
Srm Linda, Bowling Green, Kentucky and
Our Lady of Angels Monastery, Crozet, Va.
My parents had been living in their same old Victorian home for 42 years when, in the summer of 2000, my father fell down the stairs. He was 87. It became clear that they had to move out of that house-and the sooner the better.Since neither of my two sisters could do all the necessary things to move my parents they called my superior, Mother Agnes, and told her my help was urgently needed.
During my stay in Bowling Green I attended daily Mass. I didn’t know many people, but several introduced themselves. One man who expressed his understanding that being away from my monastery must be difficult for me, gave me a box of candy made by our monks at Gethsemani -to sweeten my time of exile! It was such a very thoughtful gesture. I suspect I did not convey the depth of my gratitude for this kindness from a person whose name I didn’t know!By mid-February of 2001, my parents were settled in the retirement complex, we had sold their house and I returned to Wrentham. In July I was transferred to our daughter house in Crozet Va. where the sisters in this smaller community were planning a capital campaign to finish the building of the monastery there.
In June of 2002, my mother had a massive heart attack. I made an emergency trip to Bowling Green. We did not expect Mother to survive, but she did. About four months later, Daddy fell and broke his hip. He did fine with the surgery and post-operative care and therapy. Daddy was expected to return home from the nursing home when he died very suddenly. It was a shock. He was 87.
Mother and Daddy were married just four months less than 70 years.I stayed with her for about three weeks and then she visited my sister in Georgia and I returned to the monastery in Crozet
Four months after Mother returned to the retirement complex she fell and broke her hip. She managed the surgery and post-surgery rehabilitation very well. Even so, my sisters and I knew she would need someone with her 24 hours and 7 days a week.
When I came to care for Mother in December 2003, I didn’t know how long I would be needed. We had to approach the needs one day at a time. My sisters were very puzzled about how in the world I would cope with not having a car. I was not terribly concerned. In the monastery I was accustomed to staying at home all the time. I knew I could count on my sisters to visit at least once a month and to help us with grocery shopping if necessary. There were also some resources provided by the staff at the complex, which I felt sure we could manage for doctor appointments and other needs.
On the weekends when my sisters were able to come, I borrowed their cars to go to church. On one such occasion, I took a few moments to speak to the pastor about my situation and to ask for some one to bring communion. He quickly observed “You could really use a car. I’m sure there is someone here who has a car they could lend you.” I had not expected that response, and didn’t pursue it with Fr Jerry.
A few weeks later, my dear friend Joy called for a telephone visit. As is her practice, she concluded our conversation with prayer. She very specifically asked that God would send someone to assist us with a car. I was-as always-impressed with Joy’s confidence in the goodness of God and of other people, an uplifting witness to the loving generosity of our heavenly Father!
The next Monday morning, since my sister was in town, I borrowed her car and went to the daily Mass. At the close of the Mass andwithout any warning Fr Jerry announced to all that “Sr Linda-whom several of you remember-is here taking care of her mother, who is very sick. Sr Linda could really use a car. I know some of you have an extra one that you aren’t using, so if you can help, please let her know.” Then he walked to the back of the church to greet us as we left.
I was completely surprised, utterly unprepared. As I turned to make my way to the door, a man walked up to me and said “I have a car for you. Give me your address and phone number and I’ll have it delivered to you first thing tomorrow morning.” I was stunned. I fumbled for an appropriately HUGE word of gratitude as I wrote out my address and phone number. I remember saying “I don’t even know your name!” He did introduce himself as “John” and promised the car the following morning.
Sure enough, there was a call the next morning-followed shortly by the delivery of a perfect little silver-blue car-easy for Mother to get in and out of with walker and wheelchair. There were no questions asked, no strings or conditions attached, just a request that we let John or his assistant know if we needed anything. Fortunately, I had one of our monastery’s Gouda cheeses in the refrigerator in Mother’s kitchen. I quickly wrapped it, addressed it to John with a thank you note, and asked the driver to return it to John.
As it turned out, we had called Mother’s doctor that morning about a problem she was having, and had to rush her to his office within an hour of the arrival of that car! There have been several occasions on which I have thought, “how would we have managed without this car?”
As I prayed and pondered the goodness of God, the generosity of this person and his obvious goodness, I felt a need to write a thank you letter and describe our situation here a little more.
A few days later, I received a letter from John, thanking me for the letter and inviting me to dinner with him and his wife Chris at their home. I quickly checked with my sisters to see if either would be here for the weekend and able to stay with Mother. With that in place, I called and accepted with delight and some trepidation! After 14 years in the monastery my “going out to dinner experience” had grown rather rusty and dusty! I prepared a small flower arrangement from Mother’s garden to take along, and found myself at their door Saturday night. Warmly welcomed, I was still really tense! What to say! I thought, I can talk about the monastic life. They were both interested and attentive. It turns out they are both Benedictine Oblates of St Meinrad’s Archabbey in Indiana-near where Chris grew up. So! We have the Rule of St Benedict in common!
It was time for dinner. John had baked some wonderful bread and made a delicious Italian sauce and pasta. Chris made a great salad and the best dessert I’ve had in ages.
I still struggled with conversation at table, after 14 years of silent meals. At one point, I brought up the time I had spent in Bowling Green preparing to sell my parents house, and John said, “That’s when I first met you-remember? You were here during Christmas and I thought it must be a hard time to be away from the monastery, and gave you a box of Gethsemani’s bourbon fudge.” NOW I knew who that was!
Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, I’m realizing that God is using this whole period of my time here for an incredible array of purposes. Of course, I had no clue about what was coming when Joy prayed for a car, Fr Jerry made the appeal, and John responded-on the spot. I am continually reminded of the many blessings God is pouring out in my life and how poorly I make return for all that God gives me. Please help me say THANK YOU!
Srm Linda, Bowling Green, Kentucky and
Our Lady of Angels Monastery, Crozet, Va.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Sylvia's Fire
The house seemed quieter than usual. Michael, my seventeen year old, had just left in the car for the store to return some soda cans and my mother, who lives with us, was away visiting my sister.
It was “Maddy” and I relaxing in the living room in the glow of the candlelight. “Maddy,” our miniature Schnauzer, was sprawled on the rug where he usually is when I’m in the room. I had no clue how this tranquil evening was about to change.
It was about nine on a work night so I decided to take my shower and get ready for bed.I normally take long showers but on this night I cut it short. I don’t know why but it is a good thing I did. As soon as I turned off the shower I heard the smoke alarms screaming and the dog scratching frantically at the bathroom door. I put on a pair of slacks, grabbed a towel and without thinking flung open the bathroom door. A thick wall of black smoke rushed in and I instinctively gasped—mistake. I choked, fell backward and fainted.
I don’t know what happened in the next minute or so. My first recollection is I’m standing outside, still wrapped in a towel staring at my house that is completely engulfed in flames. Maddy is with me barking frantically but I have no idea how either of us escaped that overpowering smoke. I rushed to my neighbor’s house and Marcel took one look at the inferno behind me and called 911.
Michael had just left the store when he heard the sirens. He pulled his car over to let the fire engines pass and as is his habit he raised his hand and offered a little prayer for those in distress. Little did he know that he was praying for his mother and his own house?
When the fireman arrived it seemed half the town was right behind them. The fire fighters did everything they could but the house was too far-gone. I never saw anything burn so quickly. Like many New England homes built in the 19th century the walls had been stuffed with newspapers and hay to provide insulation. Our old colonial went up like a tinderbox. All we could do was stand helplessly and watch our home burn.
A school friend of Mike’s pointed out an eerie sight. Framed in the window of an upstairs bedroom was the velvet portrait of Jesus hanging on the wall over Michael’s bed and illuminated by the flickering flames below.
We learned latter that the fire was started probably when the dog knocked over a candle on a table by the window igniting a phone book left on the ataman. The window curtain caught on fire and the flames literally raced through the walls.
The next day, after spending a short night at my friend’s house, Michael and I returned to the ruins. There was only one wall standing. We found only two things not completely destroyed by the fire. One was a blanket my mother had crocheted although it reeked of smoke. The other was the framed portrait of Jesus that was still hanging on the one remaining wall.
When we took the portrait down there was no evidence of the fire. It didn’t even have a smoky smell to it. How do you explain that?
Sylvia Jarvis
Sturbridge, Massachusetts
It was “Maddy” and I relaxing in the living room in the glow of the candlelight. “Maddy,” our miniature Schnauzer, was sprawled on the rug where he usually is when I’m in the room. I had no clue how this tranquil evening was about to change.
It was about nine on a work night so I decided to take my shower and get ready for bed.I normally take long showers but on this night I cut it short. I don’t know why but it is a good thing I did. As soon as I turned off the shower I heard the smoke alarms screaming and the dog scratching frantically at the bathroom door. I put on a pair of slacks, grabbed a towel and without thinking flung open the bathroom door. A thick wall of black smoke rushed in and I instinctively gasped—mistake. I choked, fell backward and fainted.
I don’t know what happened in the next minute or so. My first recollection is I’m standing outside, still wrapped in a towel staring at my house that is completely engulfed in flames. Maddy is with me barking frantically but I have no idea how either of us escaped that overpowering smoke. I rushed to my neighbor’s house and Marcel took one look at the inferno behind me and called 911.
Michael had just left the store when he heard the sirens. He pulled his car over to let the fire engines pass and as is his habit he raised his hand and offered a little prayer for those in distress. Little did he know that he was praying for his mother and his own house?
When the fireman arrived it seemed half the town was right behind them. The fire fighters did everything they could but the house was too far-gone. I never saw anything burn so quickly. Like many New England homes built in the 19th century the walls had been stuffed with newspapers and hay to provide insulation. Our old colonial went up like a tinderbox. All we could do was stand helplessly and watch our home burn.
A school friend of Mike’s pointed out an eerie sight. Framed in the window of an upstairs bedroom was the velvet portrait of Jesus hanging on the wall over Michael’s bed and illuminated by the flickering flames below.
We learned latter that the fire was started probably when the dog knocked over a candle on a table by the window igniting a phone book left on the ataman. The window curtain caught on fire and the flames literally raced through the walls.
The next day, after spending a short night at my friend’s house, Michael and I returned to the ruins. There was only one wall standing. We found only two things not completely destroyed by the fire. One was a blanket my mother had crocheted although it reeked of smoke. The other was the framed portrait of Jesus that was still hanging on the one remaining wall.
When we took the portrait down there was no evidence of the fire. It didn’t even have a smoky smell to it. How do you explain that?
Sylvia Jarvis
Sturbridge, Massachusetts
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