Week of September 26
“Return home and show the great things God has done for you..” So he went his way and told throughout the whole city the great things Jesus had done for him.”Luke 8:39
Before setting out on my travels, I pray that God will allow at least one believer to cross my path. He has never disappointed me—the unexpected
believing strangers are always there.
A few years ago I wrote about some of my serendipitous “kisses”—and the saga
continues. Since then, I have met believers in the middle of a desert in Idaho, on a tiny island called Salt Cay, in a sports shop in Vermont and at
a coffee shop in San Francisco, to name a few. I have recently bought a small, purse-size blank book so I can have my “kisses” sign it, and I can
look them up in the Book of Life when I get to heaven. I call it “God’s Guest List.”
The latest “kisses” occurred during a recent trip to Phoenix. As I stood on the sidewalk of the Phoenix airport waiting for a cab, I met an attractive
African-American woman. She was on her way to a car rental place, and I asked her if she wanted to share a cab. “It’s not really on the way to your
hotel,” she told me. “That’s OK,” I replied. “I don’t mind going out of my way.” The cab attendant started yelling at me when I joined this woman,
since another cab had just pulled up. “I’m going with this woman, and you’re not going to tell me what to do,” I answered authoritatively.
During the ride, my new acquaintance confided she had no friends in Phoenix and that she was leaving her Congregational church friends and community in Chappaqua, New York. I remarked to her that God would bring her friends and suggested to pray for them—and find a church. We talked like old friends, and when she departed, I wouldn’t let her pay her fare, which intrigued our Somalian cab driver, considering I had just met her. I know he listened to our conversation and I hope that he saw Jesus Christ uniting us together. As I rode alone to my hotel, I knew then that my tenacity with the cab attendant was God-given. This woman needed encouragement!
Two days later, I sought relief for my muscles at the hotel spa. Many spas tend to embody the New Age philosophy, and this spa was no different.
“Lord,” I prayed, “protect me from this atmosphere.” I was ushered into a
room and was assigned a masseuse, an older German woman with a face that looked like she had gone through many trials. She inquired why I was at the hotel.
“To learn about Jesus Christ and how to follow Him in our everyday walk,” I responded.
“I love Jesus, too,” she replied. I then learned she
had recently moved to Phoenix after having been in a cult in Germany that pretended to be a Christian commune, but which had deceived her and taken
all her money.
She asked me to write down the titles of Christian books that would help her, and I gladly gave her a long list—along with the verses of Philippians
3:12-13, which would encourage her to forget what was in the past and press on toward the goal of knowing Christ. She hugged and kissed me, and her
weary face now blossomed with a smile. I left the spa feeling rejuvenated by the Holy Spirit.
Shopping, too, was invigorating. I went to a boutique to buy my aunt a birthday present, and within a few minutes, I found myself on the sidewalk talking with the owner and his wife. We discussed how the Lord was working
in the country; the National Prayer Breakfast; their minister son; believers in Phoenix—and who knows
what else. They were mature believers, and we had a wonderful time just enjoying each other.
But the trip was ending, and off to the airport I went with my family. As I walked past a sleeping shoeshine man, I noticed he had a Bible opened to
John 11, so I woke him up. “Fred, would you give me a shoe shine, please?”
“Hop up,” he said. “So, how long have you been a believer?” I questioned. “’Bout forty years,” he replied. “Forty years? That’s a long time,”
“Forty years? Naw, that’s nothin’! Think of Moses in the wilderness. Why, it’s not even a twinkle in eternity.”
The way he said that brought laughter to my soul. My laughter made him laugh, and we had a grand time. After kidding me about my small feet, he promised to pray for me at his prayer meeting that night. I promised to do the same for him, wherever I happened to be.
I later looked up John 11 and read in verses 25 and 26: “I am the resurrection and the Life. He who believes in Me will live, even though he
dies, and whoever lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe in Me?” Did Fred just happen to be reading John 11, or was he ready with
words of life for any patron who would listen? Only God knows.
I find it amusing, thinking about the scurrying “travel agents” of God, arranging not only my itinerary, but the itinerary of other believers. Why
would God do such a thing? To bless only me? He does that anyway, even when I’m home. Rather, the answer to “Why?” is so He can bless others.
In relating some of the above meetings to David Gilbert, (church administrator) he encouraged me to
write these recollections down and gave me the Luke 8:39 verse. The man who had demons cast out of him by Jesus was told to tell others what God had
done for him. The healing was not just for the man, but for others—so that they would receive encouragement in their faith. So, thanks to the
encouragement of David, I’m “paying it forward” to the readers of this article so that you, too, will be blessed and encouraged to look for lovers of Jesus wherever and whenever you travel. “Kisses” are waiting for your collection, and God’s guests are waiting for your acquaintance.
Sandra Ulbrich
Durham, Connecticut
Copyright Thanks Be, First Church of Christ, Wethersfield, Connecticut
Incredible true stories that touch the heart and tug at the soul. Are they chance or destiny, coincidence or fate? Do you have your own Go Figure story? Want to share it? E-mail us at gofigureamerica@yahoo.com
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Pray Specifically
Week of September 19
She is introduced as Ms Julie. You don’t use last names when you are running. She rode a bus to Florida with one suitcase and the clothes on her back. She had been directed to a shelter for abused women and given a meal. The next morning she went looking for employment.
“I was able to wait on tables and within a couple of weeks I had enough tips to rent a small apartment. What I really needed was a car to go on interviews and find a better job. So I prayed very specifically for a four-door Camry (she had had one once) so I could take people to church with me. I wanted a clean beige or brown car.
“A few days later I received a call from a caring organization that donates used cars to needy people. They had heard of my plight and called to say they had a car for me.
“When I arrived to pickup my car I was told the donor had taken it to a car wash. A few minutes later a car entered the parking lot and I knew it was a prayer answered.
It was a gift from God. It was a sparkling beige four-door Camry.”
Ms Julie
New York, New York
She is introduced as Ms Julie. You don’t use last names when you are running. She rode a bus to Florida with one suitcase and the clothes on her back. She had been directed to a shelter for abused women and given a meal. The next morning she went looking for employment.
“I was able to wait on tables and within a couple of weeks I had enough tips to rent a small apartment. What I really needed was a car to go on interviews and find a better job. So I prayed very specifically for a four-door Camry (she had had one once) so I could take people to church with me. I wanted a clean beige or brown car.
“A few days later I received a call from a caring organization that donates used cars to needy people. They had heard of my plight and called to say they had a car for me.
“When I arrived to pickup my car I was told the donor had taken it to a car wash. A few minutes later a car entered the parking lot and I knew it was a prayer answered.
It was a gift from God. It was a sparkling beige four-door Camry.”
Ms Julie
New York, New York
Sunday, September 12, 2010
A Family Mystery
Week of September 12
It is one of those unexplained things in our family. Grandfather had come from his house on the Rhode Island shore to spend the better part of the week helping dad replace the front porch on our home in the city.. On the second day my grandfather announced he had to go home. My dad protested but ‘Papa’ was firm.
Papa didn’t know why, he just knew he had to get back to his wife, who was blind, and their adult daughter. My father reluctantly drove Papa to the bus station.
The next afternoon I stood on the unfinished porch with my dad watching the rain and wind blow by the house. At five and a half years old I was holding onto the porch railing and my dad was holding onto me. Suddenly, without making a sound, a tree in the lot across the street toppled over. It didn’t snap or crack it just blew over and was uprooted. Then another tree fell. My dad had seen enough and took me inside.
Dad gathered our family on the inside wall of the dining room, away from the windows while he stood in the opposite corner by the telephone. He called the fire department to discuss the large elm next to our house. While he was talking, we heard a thump and saw the massive tree fall past the window. A branch grazed the house but the main part of the tree fell harmlessly into our driveway.
We didn’t know it then but we were witnessing the destructive hurricane of 1938 that would claim 682 lives from Long Island, Providence and the Southern New England coastline. There was no radar in those days and there had been no warning of the approaching danger.
For two days after the hurricane my dad tried to reach Papa the phone lines were down. Finally, on the third day my dad decided to drive. He told us later he didn’t realize how catastrophic this hurricane had been until he approached the ocean. The road was obliterated in places by sand and he had to detour around large boats and wharfs left stranded in the middle of the roadway.
He finally arrived in Tiverton only to find that the Old Stone Bridge to Island Park was gone. He hitched a ride over by boat.
When he reached the island he found everything in shambles. Many of the buildings he was familiar with were gone or reduced to rubble and my dad was disoriented and in shock. There was so much devastation. A metal street sign still in place told him he was at Papa’s road. All the cottages on the street were crushed or gone, except one. There was Papa’s house still standing with minimal damage.
Papa said when he awoke the morning of the storm he saw the ominous clouds, and boarded up his house, including the cellar windows preventing water from flooding the house. Papa, gramdma and my aunt rode out the ferocious storm in that single story house that Papa had built himself.
What had produced that overwhelming urge for my grandfather to return home? He never tried to explain it. When asked how he knew he had to return home he would just shrug his shoulders.
“Something was telling me I had to go home,” was all that he would say. He just heeded the message. And it is well he did. Like my Papa, today I pay attention to any strong inner messages. I know the source.
“Whoever listens to me will dwell safely, and will be secure without fear of evil.” (Proverbs 1:33)
Jody Estes
Providence, Rhode Island
It is one of those unexplained things in our family. Grandfather had come from his house on the Rhode Island shore to spend the better part of the week helping dad replace the front porch on our home in the city.. On the second day my grandfather announced he had to go home. My dad protested but ‘Papa’ was firm.
Papa didn’t know why, he just knew he had to get back to his wife, who was blind, and their adult daughter. My father reluctantly drove Papa to the bus station.
The next afternoon I stood on the unfinished porch with my dad watching the rain and wind blow by the house. At five and a half years old I was holding onto the porch railing and my dad was holding onto me. Suddenly, without making a sound, a tree in the lot across the street toppled over. It didn’t snap or crack it just blew over and was uprooted. Then another tree fell. My dad had seen enough and took me inside.
Dad gathered our family on the inside wall of the dining room, away from the windows while he stood in the opposite corner by the telephone. He called the fire department to discuss the large elm next to our house. While he was talking, we heard a thump and saw the massive tree fall past the window. A branch grazed the house but the main part of the tree fell harmlessly into our driveway.
We didn’t know it then but we were witnessing the destructive hurricane of 1938 that would claim 682 lives from Long Island, Providence and the Southern New England coastline. There was no radar in those days and there had been no warning of the approaching danger.
For two days after the hurricane my dad tried to reach Papa the phone lines were down. Finally, on the third day my dad decided to drive. He told us later he didn’t realize how catastrophic this hurricane had been until he approached the ocean. The road was obliterated in places by sand and he had to detour around large boats and wharfs left stranded in the middle of the roadway.
He finally arrived in Tiverton only to find that the Old Stone Bridge to Island Park was gone. He hitched a ride over by boat.
When he reached the island he found everything in shambles. Many of the buildings he was familiar with were gone or reduced to rubble and my dad was disoriented and in shock. There was so much devastation. A metal street sign still in place told him he was at Papa’s road. All the cottages on the street were crushed or gone, except one. There was Papa’s house still standing with minimal damage.
Papa said when he awoke the morning of the storm he saw the ominous clouds, and boarded up his house, including the cellar windows preventing water from flooding the house. Papa, gramdma and my aunt rode out the ferocious storm in that single story house that Papa had built himself.
What had produced that overwhelming urge for my grandfather to return home? He never tried to explain it. When asked how he knew he had to return home he would just shrug his shoulders.
“Something was telling me I had to go home,” was all that he would say. He just heeded the message. And it is well he did. Like my Papa, today I pay attention to any strong inner messages. I know the source.
“Whoever listens to me will dwell safely, and will be secure without fear of evil.” (Proverbs 1:33)
Jody Estes
Providence, Rhode Island
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Surprise Visitor
Week of September 5
The family had gathered for the funeral of my wife, their mother, mother-in law, grandmother or great grandmother as the case might be. Several of us were seated in the family room when the back door leading to the garage swung open.
A large dog, that none of us had seen before, came into the house as if he lived here. He walked through the kitchen, dinning room and down the hallway toward the bedrooms. My son-in-law Joe was cautiously followed him not sure what to make of this intruder. The dog was thin, but not starved, he had a collar but no identification tags and a long nose with graying hair.
At the end of the hall our visitor turned abruptly, walked past Joe and back through the dinning room and kitchen and entered into the family room where he proceeded to lay down between my recliner and the chair where my wife usually sat.
He made himself right at home. Everyone sat in stunned silence staring at him.
I looked down at the dog and ended the silence. “Mom always said, ‘Paul keep the garage door down and the back door locked. Otherwise anything could walk into this house.’ I guess she sent this guy to make her point.”
We were expecting a pastor to arrive at any minute so Joe led the dog outside by his collar. When Joe released him the dog made no attempt to leave. Joe sat on the front step and the dog joined him. They sat there together for several minutes. A cat ambled us the front walk and stopped when he saw the dog. Neither moved. Then the cat came up the rest of the walk and sat next to the dog. Joe, who lives in the neighborhood, had seen neither animal before. The cat stayed awhile and then walked away. The dog sat with Joe.
That evening Joe took the dog home with him fully intending to try and fine its owner in the morning. He put the dog in the garage for the night with some water.
The next morning he fed the dog and then let him out in the yard with his own smaller dogs. The three seem to get along fine. Then the stranger dog walked to the edge of the property, looked back at Joe as if to say farewell and walked away.
None of us have seen that dog since.
You can read in to this. Go figure.
Paul Tuck
Newfield N.J.
The family had gathered for the funeral of my wife, their mother, mother-in law, grandmother or great grandmother as the case might be. Several of us were seated in the family room when the back door leading to the garage swung open.
A large dog, that none of us had seen before, came into the house as if he lived here. He walked through the kitchen, dinning room and down the hallway toward the bedrooms. My son-in-law Joe was cautiously followed him not sure what to make of this intruder. The dog was thin, but not starved, he had a collar but no identification tags and a long nose with graying hair.
At the end of the hall our visitor turned abruptly, walked past Joe and back through the dinning room and kitchen and entered into the family room where he proceeded to lay down between my recliner and the chair where my wife usually sat.
He made himself right at home. Everyone sat in stunned silence staring at him.
I looked down at the dog and ended the silence. “Mom always said, ‘Paul keep the garage door down and the back door locked. Otherwise anything could walk into this house.’ I guess she sent this guy to make her point.”
We were expecting a pastor to arrive at any minute so Joe led the dog outside by his collar. When Joe released him the dog made no attempt to leave. Joe sat on the front step and the dog joined him. They sat there together for several minutes. A cat ambled us the front walk and stopped when he saw the dog. Neither moved. Then the cat came up the rest of the walk and sat next to the dog. Joe, who lives in the neighborhood, had seen neither animal before. The cat stayed awhile and then walked away. The dog sat with Joe.
That evening Joe took the dog home with him fully intending to try and fine its owner in the morning. He put the dog in the garage for the night with some water.
The next morning he fed the dog and then let him out in the yard with his own smaller dogs. The three seem to get along fine. Then the stranger dog walked to the edge of the property, looked back at Joe as if to say farewell and walked away.
None of us have seen that dog since.
You can read in to this. Go figure.
Paul Tuck
Newfield N.J.