A Memorial Day Story

Week of May 26, 2014

When Joy's dad died she requested a military funeral to honor the World War II veteran.
At the grave site she received a folded America flag. When she inquired about a small flag
in front of the stone marking his grave the funeral director said you's have to ask the grounds
crew about that. They said the local boys scouts placed the flags on Memorial Day.The scouts
told her they get the flags from the Department of Defense and the appropriate holders. The
scouts just replace the flags each Memorial Day.

We went to a local hardware store and purchased a small American flag on a stick and stuck
it in the ground in front of the grave stone. Joy asked, "How are we going to get a WWII flag
holder? Do we have to write DOD?"

I shook my head as we walked back to our van parked on a road nearby.As I was getting in the drivers side I stepped on something hard next to the left front tire. It was covered with dust from the road. It was a WWII graveside flag holder. Go Figure. There was no grave nearby containing a WWII veteran.

We went back to her dad's grave and placed the flag in the holder marking his resting place.

Now every Memorial Day the scouts place a new flag in front of that grave site.

In memory of Walter Holloway...
.Holyoke, Ma.

Out of Gas

Week of May 18, 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.

Homeless Job Reference

 

Week of May 11, 2014 

Approximately twenty years ago I was working as a secretary in a steamship company in New Orleans. I had been there a couple of years but because I had studied to be a legal secretary, I was ready to get a job with a law firm. I started to seek God’s guidance to help me find a job where I could utilize my legal training. During lunch hour, I would take my Bible and head behind the office building where there were benches and fountains.

 

While I was out there I would often see homeless people and panhandlers. There was one man in particular that was there every day. Eventually, he came to me and asked what I was reading and I told him. He asked if I was a Jesus freak and I said yes I am. He said I made him feel uncomfortable when he was trying to ask people for money. I told him I had no condemnation for him, but that I thought he seemed able bodied enough to work. I also shared my desire to get a job with a law firm.

 

We became speaking friends and one day he said, “Since you know God so well, why don’t you pray that I get a job.” At that moment I put my hand on his shoulder and started praying out loud. “Not here, not now,” he protested. I just kept praying. That was on a

Thursday. On Monday he came running up to me at lunch. He was clean and groomed and I hardly recognized him. An attorney who he had been asking for money had hired him. I was happy for him but I was jealous. I said (silently of course) God, I am the one who wanted a job with a law firm, have you mixed things up here or what? I was sure God knew what he was doing and I thanked him for giving this man a job.

 

About a week later, the man came to me and said, “I have an interview for you at the law firm. The senior partner needs a secretary.” I thought this would take an act of faith for me to go on an interview at the recommendation of this man. Were they just humoring him? Those thoughts vanished immediately because I knew no matter what; I would do nothing to cause him to waiver in his belief in answered prayers. I was not going to let pride prevent me from going and thereby show a lack of faith.

 

I thanked God for the opportunity, went on the interview and I was hired on the spot. The attorneys still tell people that the best employment recommendation they ever had was from a homeless man. I quickly remind them that God alone was the employment agency. God will answer your prayer when you step out in faith. God also has a wonderful sense of humor.

 

Carolyn Bourgeois

New Orleans, Louisiana

Wedding on her knees

 

Week of May 4, 2014

 

It was October 2. It was my day off and it was my birthday. I was also a month and a half into therapy for burnout and depression.

 

I love to garden and there was a particular flower bed that irritated me. I was determined this day to weed, plant and mulch that piece of the garden.

 

While on my knees pulling weeds, God brought to mind a story about a mom picking up her daughter from work. The daughter was on her knees stocking a shelf. Two men walked by the end of the aisle and the mother heard one say to the other, “That’s where a woman should be, down on her knees.”

 

The words and the imagery pierced my heart. It was my story. I had been told who I was based on someone’s definition of what I could and could not do. The tears came and with every weed I yanked I became more determined to remove the lies from my heart about who I was. I cried out to God to help me.

 

Most of my negative messages had come through religious, male authoritative figures in my life.

Still on my knees by that garden, I looked up to the sky and asked, “ How can I be created in your image when you are , when you are…all MALE?

I stiffened, looked around, but lightning didn’t strike, so I continued weeding not expecting an answer.

 

What came to mind was a picture of Jesus on His knees washing the dirty feet of his disciples. My tears began to flow again only this time they were not tears of anguish but tears of healing, release and pure joy.

 

I felt as if the very hand of God had touched my heart and healed it. At that moment I realized that Jesus, though male, understood me more than anyone.

 

He the King of kings went down on His knees and took the lowly position of a servant to wash dirty feet. He most certainly understood me. He made me and knew every intimate detail about me from the beginning.

 

That day Jesus healed me. He restored my rightful position as a worthy child of God to come alongside as co-image bearers. He had a purpose and a plan for my life, and it was not based on what others said I could do, but based on who God said I was through Christ.

 

Janae Shatley Camp

Paragould, Arkansas 

 Taken from Image Wearers to Image Bearers with permission.

A Boy Challenges God

Week of April 27, 2014

 

It started like any other day for Jay, a nine -year-old, but what happened next would change his life in an instant.

 

Jay’s parents had moved into a new subdivision in Woodhaven Woods, Michigan. The homes were new and had flat backyards with no fences. All the yards backed into a wood line fifty yards deep. It was a great place for a youngster to grow up and play.

 

Most of the trees were hardwoods, like oak and maple, tall and straight. That is all except one. As Jay remembers it, that tree was forked about four feet up. One side was badly decayed and hollow near its base while the other was solid and healthy.

 

Jay describes that afternoon as very windy with lots of threatening clouds but it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t raining. He was standing in his yard when he challenged God. He doesn’t know what prompted him. What goes through a nine-year-olds mind anyway?

 

“I saw the trees swaying and I said, ‘Ok God-You knock over a tree and I will never doubt you again.’

 

Within seconds there was a loud crack. Even though I was some distance away I could see it was the forked tree that had fallen.

Some adults gathered around the forked tree as I ran over to see. It was then I saw that it was the solid half of the forked tree that had cracked all the way to the ground. Surprisingly, the decayed half was still standing by itself. You could look right through and see light on the other side. I don’t know what was holding up that half of the decayed tree. It looked as if it would fall over at any minute so the parents were keeping the children at a safe distance.

 

I thought about it later. God knocked over the strong but held up the weak. You could read into that.

 

The weak half of that tree never did fall on its own. Some men cut it down later to insure it wouldn’t fall on anyone.

 

I didn’t tell a soul about what I had said for the longest time. I guess I thought this was between God and me.

 

Until now, decades later, I have only shared this experience with a few others for fear of being seen as bragging or worse.

 

But there is no doubt in my mind that God felled the strong half of that tree that day.”

 

Jay Hessler

Woodhaven Woods, Michigan

Lump in my throat

          

Week of April 21, 2014

 

During a routine physical examination my family doctor found a growth in my throat. He sent me to a specialist who determined it was a five cm tumor that was in such a difficult area of the throat that he recommended another specialist to do the operation. The encouraging news was that the doctor felt it was likely benign.

My position on a local hospital board lead me to see another qualified surgeon but he would not do the surgery but referred me to a surgeon in Texas who he said was considered the best in the nation for this type of operation.

I became very nervous by these developments and my 23 years of working in hospital administration did nothing but increase my anxiety. In short, I became a nervous wreck. This heightened the concern of my adult children who had not seen their dad in such a state.

My online research revealed the potential after effects could be permanent numbness of the tongue, paralyzed facial muscles, speech impediments and vocal cord damage. Now I was a babbling fool worrying about all these possibilities over which I had no control. My research about the hospital and the surgeon gave me some peace of mind but they were both in Texas and I was in Florida. My adult children wanted me to have to operation closer to them so they could be with me.

 

For the next five months I delayed the inevitable and this was taking a toll on me. I was waking up in the middle of the night in fear of dying. I even rationalized not having the operation if the rate of growth of the tumor was slow enough I could avoid having to remove it. However, reality set in when it became clear that the tumor was blocking my nasal passages and affecting my breathing when I was in certain positions. I was my own worst enemy.

I could see the Lord was trying to help me though other people but I was trying to stay in control. One night I woke up struggling to breath. I got out of bed and fell on my knees and cried out; "Lord I can't do this on my own. I am lost without you. Lord please take control."

During the next week my son David who is a pastor of a church in Massachusetts and who was not expected to make the trip to Texas was able to rearrange his schedule and said he would be able to fly to Houston and be with me. Shortly after this my other son Robert told me he would be with me when David had to leave. I knew this was the Lord showing me that he was in control and working things out.

I flew to Texas for pre-op testing. My confidence in the surgeon was very high. However, he said from the Cat Scan he could see no clear method of removal without the need to split my jaw to gain access to the tumor. He further stated that a group of other surgeons he meets with for pre-op review were all in agreement. The operation was scheduled in two weeks. I was devastated.

I returned home mad about his findings and determined to find another surgeon who would do it my way and remove the tumor without breaking my jaw. I was playing doctor again and trying to take control.

This time being a little more aware of the negative effect of my taking control, I called my Pastor Brian and asked for another prayer session with the church elders.

We arranged the meeting and I tried intensely to convince everyone that I needed their support to find another way. One of the elders, responding with love and compassion  sent me  to yet  another ENT specialist. He refused to do the operation but did offer to pursue other surgeons at Moffit Hospital (in Florida) and Massachusetts General (near my sons).

After making those appointments I woke up one night with and even worst breathing attack. Once again I was back on my knees.I had tried to take control again and I failed again.

I arose the next day in obedience to the Lord and called my son and asked him to meet me in Houston for the operation. The morning I left, my daughter gave me some helpful scriptures for reassurance. (Psalm 34:11-18 and Psalm 55:22)(1Peter 5:6-7) and (Colossians 3:15).

I returned to the surgeon who had scared me out of my wit but I was confident the Lord would answer my prayers and guide this surgeon to remove the tumor without breaking my jaw.

The night before the operation I met the surgeon for the final briefing. He again emphasized that I should be prepared for the jaw splitting. He did not want me to wake up in recovery and be shocked by my condition. Knowing the Lord was in control and would answer my prayers, I looked the doctor in the eye and said; "I know you must do what you think you must do but I believe God will show you another way!" He smiled but said nothing.

I prayed that night along with my son. There were hundreds of people praying for me in three different churches. The operation was performed the next day and I woke up hours later in Intensive Cara... without having a split jaw. The operation was successfully completed by the Great Physician guiding the hands of my Texas surgeon.

What I didn't know was that my surgeon was also a believer and he was willing to be guided by our Lord. When he went to operate he noticed a slight opening and he was able to massage the tumor with a finger into a position where he could remove it.

When I was discharged the surgeon said to me, "prayer does get answered."

I can testify to that. Praise the Lord

Robert Polimeni

Sarasota

An Easter Miracle

Week of April 13, 2014

 

Good Friday Jack was working out at the gym, as he often did. Without warning he collapsed on a weight machine and slid to the floor. A cardiac nurse happened to be working out nearby. She normally would not have been at the gym at that hour but a schedule change at work allowed her to be at the gym. (Go Figure) She had the presence to remove vomit from Jack’s mouth which cleared his air passage. Jack, unconscious but breathing on his own was rushed to a nearby hospital.

 

I the emergency room Jack remained unconscious, a couple of times the doctors lost a pulse. He remained in a coma. The doctor told his wife that a cat scan showed no activity…if he regained consciousness he probably would be a vegetable. Jack’s youngest daughter, Colleen, a high school student, told her mom not to believe the doctor.

 

“Our God is bigger than that,” she said. Later after the rest of the family arrived Colleen found her way to the Chapel. She was alone. She prayed for God’s healing power. She said she clearly her a voice in her head say, “I will restore those (brain) cells Sunday to glorify my son’s resurrection.”

 

When she reported this revelation to her family she was met with skepticism, heads shaking in disbelief, and eyes rolling. The next day Jack was still in a

coma and on life support. Twice Colleen, in talking to her dad, got such a strong reaction on the monitoring machine that the nurses came in the room. The second time she was asked her to leave the hospital room. She insisted her dad was going to be ok. “You don’t know my God or my dad,” she told the nurses as she left.

 

The next day, Easter morning, there was a banging at Colleen’s bedroom door. It was her little brother reporting that ,“Dad woke up.”

 

An excited Colleen, while driving to the hospital stopped at every convenience store she passed to exclaim ,“Behold the Lamb of God, my dad is healed.”

 

She arrived at the hospital to find her dad sitting up and being his old feisty self.  What she had heard in

the chapel came true that Easter morning.

 

Jack Reilly

St. Maries, Idaho