June 28
She fled to Florida by bus with one suitcase. Jana didn’t give her last name still fearing reprisals from her abuser.
“I needed a car and prayed specifically for a clean four-dour Camry, so I could take people to church with me. And God, I prefer a brown or beige one.” Gifts from God, which receives donated cars, called her. When she arrived she saw truly a gift from God waiting. It was a Camry, four-door, beige and fresh from the car wash.
“And whatever things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive.”
(Matthew 21:22)
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
In a Bad Place
June 27
“I’m in a bad place,” After listening to his story Joy kneeled before him and began praying. He sat stiffly, his wife cried.
At communion a month later our pastor invited all. “I want you to feel welcomed with a hug from the Lord himself.” Our friend came down the isle tears streaming down his face and wrapped his arms around the elder at the communion table and bawled. He was with his God again.
“He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet on a rock, and established my steps.”
(Psalm 40:2)
“I’m in a bad place,” After listening to his story Joy kneeled before him and began praying. He sat stiffly, his wife cried.
At communion a month later our pastor invited all. “I want you to feel welcomed with a hug from the Lord himself.” Our friend came down the isle tears streaming down his face and wrapped his arms around the elder at the communion table and bawled. He was with his God again.
“He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet on a rock, and established my steps.”
(Psalm 40:2)
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Lost Wallett
Week of June 26
Jim lost his wallet and that affected the whole family. It happened sometime Sunday although he didn’t realize he had misplaced his wallet until he was getting his things ready Sunday night for the morning commute.
He had washed two cars and detailed them Sunday afternoon so that was the first place he looked. The rest of us started the search inside the house, starting with the obvious places like the nightstand by the bed and the buffet in the dining room. We progressed to feeling in the crevasses of the cushions on the couch and inside the levels of the Lazy Boy chair. Soon we were trashing the house. All was for naught.
Monday morning Jim drove off to work without his wallet and of course without his license, I prayed the wallet would be found. Monday night we resumed the search perhaps more frantically than the day before. Jim and the kids went out and checked the cars again and I looked around inside revisiting many of the same places I had searched before. No wallet. I prayed some more
Tuesday Jim was obviously still upset and began grumbling about the prospect of having to apply for a duplicate license and call the credit card companies to close the accounts. As he stood by the door he said he was going to take my car this morning because the SUV was low on gas. I suggested we pray together, something we hadn’t done for awhile. So we did.
We didn’t ask that the wallet be found but we praised the Lord for all that we did have and confessing that we didn’t have to worry about these things but just give it all over to Him. I felt better after praying.
I walked him out to the car. As he opened the door he shouted, “There’s my wallet!”
I took a step forward and then I saw it too. It was on the floor in front of the back seat right in plain sight. He and the kids had searched both vehicles twice, most recently as last night. That wallet could not have been out in the open like that.
We looked at each other in disbelief. How did it get there? What if he hadn’t decided to take my car instead of his today?
Cathy Pansa
Shorewood, Illinois
Jim lost his wallet and that affected the whole family. It happened sometime Sunday although he didn’t realize he had misplaced his wallet until he was getting his things ready Sunday night for the morning commute.
He had washed two cars and detailed them Sunday afternoon so that was the first place he looked. The rest of us started the search inside the house, starting with the obvious places like the nightstand by the bed and the buffet in the dining room. We progressed to feeling in the crevasses of the cushions on the couch and inside the levels of the Lazy Boy chair. Soon we were trashing the house. All was for naught.
Monday morning Jim drove off to work without his wallet and of course without his license, I prayed the wallet would be found. Monday night we resumed the search perhaps more frantically than the day before. Jim and the kids went out and checked the cars again and I looked around inside revisiting many of the same places I had searched before. No wallet. I prayed some more
Tuesday Jim was obviously still upset and began grumbling about the prospect of having to apply for a duplicate license and call the credit card companies to close the accounts. As he stood by the door he said he was going to take my car this morning because the SUV was low on gas. I suggested we pray together, something we hadn’t done for awhile. So we did.
We didn’t ask that the wallet be found but we praised the Lord for all that we did have and confessing that we didn’t have to worry about these things but just give it all over to Him. I felt better after praying.
I walked him out to the car. As he opened the door he shouted, “There’s my wallet!”
I took a step forward and then I saw it too. It was on the floor in front of the back seat right in plain sight. He and the kids had searched both vehicles twice, most recently as last night. That wallet could not have been out in the open like that.
We looked at each other in disbelief. How did it get there? What if he hadn’t decided to take my car instead of his today?
Cathy Pansa
Shorewood, Illinois
Monday, June 20, 2011
Yard Sale
Week of June 20
It wasn’t your typical yard sale. For me it was a desperation move.
I was down to my last six dollars. I needed gas to get to work, the electric bill was overdue and my water would be shut off if I didn’t pay it by Monday. It would be another week before I received another paycheck and I was already one month behind in my rent as well as my other bills.
My wife and I were separated and I had recently been diagnosed with Hepatitis C. I really was at the end of my rope. I needed this sale to survive one more day.
A friend arrived for moral support and I asked him if he would pray with me. We stood together in the empty living room. He prayed, “Lord bless my friend and help him though this situation. Without you we are nothing but with your blessing we know we can get through anything. You said Lord, ‘Come to me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’ We are here Lord and we need your help, Amen.”
Everything I owned was out on the lawn except my mattress, clothes and the computer on which I couldn’t make the payments.
During the first hour I sold $80 worth of furniture including my couch, end table and some lamps.
The flow of potential buyers slowed considerably during the second hour and I took in just $20 more.
During a lull the phone rang and I dashed into the house to answer it.
The lady on the phone said, “You gave me a quote to paint my house several months ago. Does your offer still stand?”
“It sure does.”
“How soon can you start?”
“Lady I’ll be there this afternoon for the one third
down payment so I can buy your paint.”
I rushed outside to retrieve my kitchen table and chairs from the lawn. Then I told my friend.
“I made a bid to paint a lady’s house six months ago and she calls me today of all days. Go figure.”
My friend looked at me with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes and said, “That call was prompted by the Lord.”
Patrick Lavilla
Beaumont Tx
It wasn’t your typical yard sale. For me it was a desperation move.
I was down to my last six dollars. I needed gas to get to work, the electric bill was overdue and my water would be shut off if I didn’t pay it by Monday. It would be another week before I received another paycheck and I was already one month behind in my rent as well as my other bills.
My wife and I were separated and I had recently been diagnosed with Hepatitis C. I really was at the end of my rope. I needed this sale to survive one more day.
A friend arrived for moral support and I asked him if he would pray with me. We stood together in the empty living room. He prayed, “Lord bless my friend and help him though this situation. Without you we are nothing but with your blessing we know we can get through anything. You said Lord, ‘Come to me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’ We are here Lord and we need your help, Amen.”
Everything I owned was out on the lawn except my mattress, clothes and the computer on which I couldn’t make the payments.
During the first hour I sold $80 worth of furniture including my couch, end table and some lamps.
The flow of potential buyers slowed considerably during the second hour and I took in just $20 more.
During a lull the phone rang and I dashed into the house to answer it.
The lady on the phone said, “You gave me a quote to paint my house several months ago. Does your offer still stand?”
“It sure does.”
“How soon can you start?”
“Lady I’ll be there this afternoon for the one third
down payment so I can buy your paint.”
I rushed outside to retrieve my kitchen table and chairs from the lawn. Then I told my friend.
“I made a bid to paint a lady’s house six months ago and she calls me today of all days. Go figure.”
My friend looked at me with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes and said, “That call was prompted by the Lord.”
Patrick Lavilla
Beaumont Tx
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Jump Start
Week of June 12
My goal is to get around Washington DC before dark. I am heading south to deliver furniture to the kid in college. I notice the car is running a little hot towing the U Haul so I stop at a rest area in Maryland between Baltimore and DC.
I go to the bathroom, walk around some to stretch my legs and return to the car. I turn the key in the ignition-nothing. Try again. Dead. Now what?
These high tech cars stump me (mine is a ten-year old 1989 Cadillac DeVille). I have no idea what to do next. I call my road service plan and they locate a towing service near the interstate.
“We’ll have to send two trucks,” he says, “One for your car and one for the trailer.” Looks like I will be spending the night nearby.
As I return dejectedly to my car. I say Lord I need help here. A voice in my head says try your spare key. I try the key and the car starts right up. I call my road guy, cancel the tow service and head south.
I have no further problems. I should call those “Car Talk” brothers on PBS about this one.
Walter Holloway
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
My goal is to get around Washington DC before dark. I am heading south to deliver furniture to the kid in college. I notice the car is running a little hot towing the U Haul so I stop at a rest area in Maryland between Baltimore and DC.
I go to the bathroom, walk around some to stretch my legs and return to the car. I turn the key in the ignition-nothing. Try again. Dead. Now what?
These high tech cars stump me (mine is a ten-year old 1989 Cadillac DeVille). I have no idea what to do next. I call my road service plan and they locate a towing service near the interstate.
“We’ll have to send two trucks,” he says, “One for your car and one for the trailer.” Looks like I will be spending the night nearby.
As I return dejectedly to my car. I say Lord I need help here. A voice in my head says try your spare key. I try the key and the car starts right up. I call my road guy, cancel the tow service and head south.
I have no further problems. I should call those “Car Talk” brothers on PBS about this one.
Walter Holloway
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Are You in Ministry?
June 8
"I think I know you," the man at the next table stated, "are you in ministry?"
"I'm not ordained," and wondered immediately why I said that. It sounded so awkward. He didn't ask me if I was a minister. He asked if I was in ministry. Aren't all believers expected to be in ministry?" I should have said yes.
"But be watchful in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry." (2 Timothy 4:5)
"Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us;
(2 Corinthians 5:20)
"I think I know you," the man at the next table stated, "are you in ministry?"
"I'm not ordained," and wondered immediately why I said that. It sounded so awkward. He didn't ask me if I was a minister. He asked if I was in ministry. Aren't all believers expected to be in ministry?" I should have said yes.
"But be watchful in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry." (2 Timothy 4:5)
"Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us;
(2 Corinthians 5:20)
An Apology to my Teachers
June 7
I am sorry for:
-causing my firth grade teacher to hit me with a pitch pipe that squeaked afterwards;
-putting a cat in my teacher’s desk draw and kudos for how he handled it;
-breaking the glass in the door when I backed into it during horseplay in English;
-my part in the food fight that splattered an ice cream bar on the Principle's suit.
-waiting so long before taking my ultimate teacher seriously? Thanks for Your patience. This student is ready and now I see the Teacher appearing everywhere.
“If we confess our sins he is faithful…”
(1 John 1:9)
I am sorry for:
-causing my firth grade teacher to hit me with a pitch pipe that squeaked afterwards;
-putting a cat in my teacher’s desk draw and kudos for how he handled it;
-breaking the glass in the door when I backed into it during horseplay in English;
-my part in the food fight that splattered an ice cream bar on the Principle's suit.
-waiting so long before taking my ultimate teacher seriously? Thanks for Your patience. This student is ready and now I see the Teacher appearing everywhere.
“If we confess our sins he is faithful…”
(1 John 1:9)
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Mr. Clarke
Week of June 5
There are some things that just defy logical explanations. This is one of those things for me. I was a mother with a small boy at home. About once a month a Mr. Clarke would stop by, usually late morning, with a suitcase full of small household items for sale. Mr. Clarke, I never knew his first name and always addressed me as Mrs.Marr. He was an older gentleman of retirement age who was trying to augment his income by going door-to-door selling whatever he could. I felt sorry for him and would always buy something, even if only a pair of shoe strings, so he wouldn’t leave without having sold something.
Mainly we would just chat about the weather or something in the news that week while my little boy played with blocks or some other toy on the living room floor. After several minutes of friendly conversation he would open his suitcase and point out some new item. I would listen to whatever he was promoting and politely say I didn’t think I needed that right now but what we really needed was a box of bandages. I would purchase an item and he was always most gracious,packed his wares and left.
This went on for about a year and then one month passed and he hadn’t stopped by. Several months passed and no Mr. Clarke. There was a knock at the door one morning and I opened it to find a thin pleasant looking woman.
“Are you Mrs. Marr,” she asked? I nodded.
“I’m Mrs. Clarke, You were a customer of my husband. He passed on you know.”
“I’m sorry, I wondered what happened to him.”
“I’ve been talking with him and last night he gave me a message for you,” she said.
Before I could collect myself to say anything sensible she must have read the expression of bewilderment and shock on my face and she continued talking.
“Oh yes. I talk with him frequently and last night he was very clear that I bring a message to you. He said, ‘tell Mrs. Marr there is going to be an explosion.’ That’s it, that’s all he said. I can’t tell you what it means, just what he said.”
She wouldn’t come in, apologized for upsetting me in any way and thanked me for being kind to her husband and she walked away. I was dumbfounded.
I thought of a hundred questions I wanted to ask her but she had gone. I didn’t know how to get in touch with her, or where she lived and I still didn’t know Mr. Clarke’s first name.
An explosion! What to do? My husband worked at an oil refinery and I impulsively called his office. As the call was going through I thought what on earth will I say to him, that a woman I’ve never met before told me her dead husband gave her a message last night to warn me that there was going to be an explosion…
“Hello.”
“Hi Dear, how are you?”
“I’m fine, what’s up?”
I couldn’t tell him at least not now over the phone while he was at work. I would tell him when he got home tonight, besides he would be asking me a ton of questions to which I had no answers. The rest of our conversation was strained and awkward especially on my end. I tried to determine what the rest of his day was like without tipping my hand. I was trying to ascertain that he was going to be right at his desk and not out by the fuel storage tanks or down on the docks where the tankers unloaded. I sensed he was getting curious about my new-found
interest in his day. Then he asked the question I was dreading.
“ Tell me is there something on your mind that prompted this call?”
“Oh,” I laughed nervously, “ Could you pick up a dozen eggs on your way home?”
When he came home with the eggs I came clean. I was relieved that he was home and we both had a laugh over our cat and mouse phone conversation. He didn’t know what to make of Mrs. Clarke’s message anymore than I did. So we returned to our routine and switched on the evening news.
The lead story was “A Northwest Airliner Exploded Over Lake Michigan Today Killing All On Board.”
I fainted. Our daughter was a flight attendant for Northwest. Bob, after assisting me, called the airline. They wouldn’t give out any information at this time. Our next call was to the Providence Journal. After talking to a few people an editor said he would make inquiries. He did and called us back with the information that our daughter was not on that flight.
We found out later that she was scheduled for that flight but took sick and her roommate had taken her place. It was a sad day for our family and many others.
What about Mrs. Clarke’s message and its source? Was it just coincidence? I wonder? As I said, I have no logical explanation for this.
Caroline Marr
East Providence, Rhode Island
There are some things that just defy logical explanations. This is one of those things for me. I was a mother with a small boy at home. About once a month a Mr. Clarke would stop by, usually late morning, with a suitcase full of small household items for sale. Mr. Clarke, I never knew his first name and always addressed me as Mrs.Marr. He was an older gentleman of retirement age who was trying to augment his income by going door-to-door selling whatever he could. I felt sorry for him and would always buy something, even if only a pair of shoe strings, so he wouldn’t leave without having sold something.
Mainly we would just chat about the weather or something in the news that week while my little boy played with blocks or some other toy on the living room floor. After several minutes of friendly conversation he would open his suitcase and point out some new item. I would listen to whatever he was promoting and politely say I didn’t think I needed that right now but what we really needed was a box of bandages. I would purchase an item and he was always most gracious,packed his wares and left.
This went on for about a year and then one month passed and he hadn’t stopped by. Several months passed and no Mr. Clarke. There was a knock at the door one morning and I opened it to find a thin pleasant looking woman.
“Are you Mrs. Marr,” she asked? I nodded.
“I’m Mrs. Clarke, You were a customer of my husband. He passed on you know.”
“I’m sorry, I wondered what happened to him.”
“I’ve been talking with him and last night he gave me a message for you,” she said.
Before I could collect myself to say anything sensible she must have read the expression of bewilderment and shock on my face and she continued talking.
“Oh yes. I talk with him frequently and last night he was very clear that I bring a message to you. He said, ‘tell Mrs. Marr there is going to be an explosion.’ That’s it, that’s all he said. I can’t tell you what it means, just what he said.”
She wouldn’t come in, apologized for upsetting me in any way and thanked me for being kind to her husband and she walked away. I was dumbfounded.
I thought of a hundred questions I wanted to ask her but she had gone. I didn’t know how to get in touch with her, or where she lived and I still didn’t know Mr. Clarke’s first name.
An explosion! What to do? My husband worked at an oil refinery and I impulsively called his office. As the call was going through I thought what on earth will I say to him, that a woman I’ve never met before told me her dead husband gave her a message last night to warn me that there was going to be an explosion…
“Hello.”
“Hi Dear, how are you?”
“I’m fine, what’s up?”
I couldn’t tell him at least not now over the phone while he was at work. I would tell him when he got home tonight, besides he would be asking me a ton of questions to which I had no answers. The rest of our conversation was strained and awkward especially on my end. I tried to determine what the rest of his day was like without tipping my hand. I was trying to ascertain that he was going to be right at his desk and not out by the fuel storage tanks or down on the docks where the tankers unloaded. I sensed he was getting curious about my new-found
interest in his day. Then he asked the question I was dreading.
“ Tell me is there something on your mind that prompted this call?”
“Oh,” I laughed nervously, “ Could you pick up a dozen eggs on your way home?”
When he came home with the eggs I came clean. I was relieved that he was home and we both had a laugh over our cat and mouse phone conversation. He didn’t know what to make of Mrs. Clarke’s message anymore than I did. So we returned to our routine and switched on the evening news.
The lead story was “A Northwest Airliner Exploded Over Lake Michigan Today Killing All On Board.”
I fainted. Our daughter was a flight attendant for Northwest. Bob, after assisting me, called the airline. They wouldn’t give out any information at this time. Our next call was to the Providence Journal. After talking to a few people an editor said he would make inquiries. He did and called us back with the information that our daughter was not on that flight.
We found out later that she was scheduled for that flight but took sick and her roommate had taken her place. It was a sad day for our family and many others.
What about Mrs. Clarke’s message and its source? Was it just coincidence? I wonder? As I said, I have no logical explanation for this.
Caroline Marr
East Providence, Rhode Island
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