Angry at God

 

Week of March 30

 

 

It was a season in my life that I was so angry and hurt I was even blaming God for allowing me to wreck my life. I had sacrificed so much and he allowed this to happen.

 

The Elders came over with a form for me to sign that I would read the Bible every day, even if I didn’t feel like reading it. 

 

I told them, “You can fire me now but I can’t sign that form. I am not reading the Bible. I’ll read the book of Ecclesiastes…it is the only book that makes any sense. I do believe in God but I’m not sure His Word is all we have made it out to be.”

 

God heard all that and God decided No Problem. I have lots of others ways to speak to you. Two things happened.

 

One was my daughter Catherine bringing me the Bible to read as a bedtime story. I was irritated because I didn’t want to read the Word but how do you tell a child you don’t want to read the Bible.

“I was  wiped out but I heard God’s voice through the story.”

 

That was one way God got the Word back in my heart and the other was the Diary of Ann Franck. I was watching an old version of the film in black and white. I remember seeing all the frail people fighting over crumbs. These people were under the oppression of Hitler. I realized that Lost people are under the oppression of evil.

 

I recalled the song that was sung at my ordination, a song that I have always loved, “People need the Lord.” I felt called by God to rescue the lost people. I felt I had the answer. People need the Lord. They are dying and I had the solution but I can’t get to them anymore. I felt like a gladiator who wanted to fight but that I was outside the ring.

 

I remember weeping and crying and saying what are we going to do. I’m on the sidelines. I called Bob Yawbeg ( a pastor’s pastor) later that night and he said “Jeff you are a gladiator and you will fight again but right now God is doing something in you to prepare you for the long haul. Let it happen.”

 

I now realize it wasn’t God but it was me to blame.

 

Jeff Wilson

Birmingham, Alabama

Some Prayers Take Time

Week of March 23, 2014 

 

Bill and Cindy are a wonderful Christian couple. For years Bill has taught Latin in the Manchester Public School System. Cindy was a youth counselor when she first met Bill.  They are married, have six children and are running a retreat center in Hebron, Connecticut called Mary's Field.

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The Pfeiffers have a modest home for themselves and their children. Despite having a large family they opened their home to unwed pregnant girls who had nowhere to go and wanted to deliver their unborn babies. The family agreed on the need to find a separate place for Mary's Field and expand its reach to anyone seeking deeper spiritual meaning.

 

Bill said the whole family discussed what an ideal center would look like. Each of the children had things they wanted. The younger children wanted an indoor pool to swim in year round and not have to worry about leaves or cold weather. The youngest boy wanted "a neat robot thing that cleans the pool." One teenager wanted a tennis court and another a jute box. Bill wished for a room large enough to house a small chapel and Cindy visualized a spacious kitchen suitable for volunteers to prepare meals for groups. 

 

 Bill, an ordained priest, lead the family in prayer and presented these requests to the Lord. Bill then suggested to the children that they give up something they like, to show their seriousness in making these prayer requests. The children decide to give up watching television.

 

Almost a year goes  by. No television. No retreat center. “Then came God's answer,” Bill said. He receives a call from a Mary’s Field board member who reports a local bank had foreclosed on an estate. A developer had built the mansion as his personal residence during the real estate boom of the early 1980’s.The housing bubble burst, the developer had committed suicide and the bank was left with the property. It had remained vacant for more than a year and the bank “is anxious to unload this white elephant.”

 

The Pfeiffer family went to take a look. A long secluded driveway leads into the property that includes 23 acres, mostly wooded. A large two-story house sits on a hill overlooking woods and a pond. In front of the house there is a paved area for parking and a lawn with a flagpole. Adjacent to the house is a hard surface tennis court and down the hill is a carriage house large enough to serve as a chapel.

God and a toddler

Week of March 16, 2014

 

My husband and I had been attending the Church of the Way in Van Nuys California for some time.

 

This particular Sunday was baby dedication day but our 15 month old stayed in the nursery because we had had her dedicated earlier. Following the brief ceremony the parents returned their babies to the nursery.

 

Looking back, we think that was when a door must have been left open and our little Andrea slipped out of the nursery unnoticed. She apparently made her way outside to the sidewalk and walked between two parked cars and was about to enter busy Van Nuys Boulevard when a man picked her up and brought her into the church foyer.

 

He presented her to an elder saying simply he found this little girl getting ready to cross Van Nuys Blvd. The elder recognized Andrea and sent someone into the church to get me.

 

When I saw Andrea she was lying quietly in the arms of the elder. It wasn’t until she saw me that she began to scream and cry.

 

Together, the three of us went back to the nursery. Everyone there was upset that Andrea had gotten out and relieved that she was safe.

The man that had brought her in was gone and the elder said he hadn’t seen him before. The odd thing was that Andrea didn’t go to men, not even to her father. Her tendency would be to run from a man especially a stranger. But the elder said she looked very peaceful in the man’s arm and she didn’t fuss when he took her from him and cradled her.

 

Some may call this luck but after people had calmed down the sentiment at the nursery was that someone was looking out for Andrea and sent an angel to rescue my little girl. I would not argue otherwise.

 

Barbara Koukl

Van Nuys, California

Out of Gas

Week of March 9,2014

 

I had gone to the mall for a job interview. I spotted a man pushing a broom when I entered and I figured he must know where the main office is.  He was very pleasant and appeared to know a lot about this mall.

 

During my interview for a management position I mentioned the nice man I encountered pushing the broom. Guess I thought I would put in a good word for him since he showed kindness to me. After I described him they smiled and said, “Oh that’s Jeff, he owns this mall. That is one of the ways he gets to talk with the customers.” I was hired as a manager of that mall.

 

After that Jeff and I kept bumping in to each other. He was always cordial and we would have friendly albeit brief conversations. Several months went by and then I learned that Jeff had sold this mall for something around $29,000,000. Shortly after this the new owners gave me an envelope to deliver to Jeff’s home.

 

I wasn’t surprised to find that his home was a mansion right on the water but I was surprised when I pressed the front door bell and it was Jeff who opened the door. He greeted me warmly and invited me into his home. He opened the envelope and told me that it was a sizeable check representing his part of the commission of the sale of the mall. He or someone in his family was a licensed real estate broker. Then he shared with me that his family foundation was inundated by requests for money. He said he was really looking “to find something to give to that is making a difference, let me know.”

A couple of years went by and I was going down a back road near the coast when I see a guy standing by his car on the side of the road. It is Jeff. He has run out of gas and I offer to take him to the nearest filling station. It turns out to be some distance before we reach a station. We chat. I ask him if he is still looking for an organization to give to that is making a difference. He asks what I have in mind. I tell him about a new organization called Gifts From God, which is feeding the hungry and helping families needing furniture or providing a car free to struggling single moms. By the time we are back to his car with a can of gasoline he has agreed to meet with Mike Butterfield, the president of Gifts from God. From that meeting came a much needed seed grant from Jeff’s family foundation.

 

A year later I am driving on Laurel Road in Venice and I am rounding a curve and there is Jeff standing by his car on the side of the road. Yep, out of gas again.  “You have come to my rescue again, it must be time for another grant to Gifts From God,” he grins. It was.

 Who else, but God ,could orchestrate such timely chance meetings like this?

 

Lloyd Keith

Osprey,Fl.

Family Mystery

 

Week of March 2, 2014

 

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. Where there had been a row of homes there was now empty space. 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, grandma 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

East Providence, Rhode Island