UNBELIEVEABLE! I'd no sooner written my blog yesterday and clicked "publish now", when the Lord began testing the integrity of my words. Had foreknowledge been mine, I might have written things a bit differently. But having trusted in a Sovereign Lord, I must say, He worked it all out for HIS glory. AGAIN!...
So, I left you yesterday as I grabbed my coat and headed for Texas. All things being "normal" for me on any given day, the Lord thought it amusing to give me a day to linger long into tomorrows--a reminder that HE'S in control of my days. Unfortunately, for me, this "reminder" cost me twenty-five bucks, a red-face and time I didn't plan to spend. Nevertheless, the Lord knows best, and I found He still speaks today. Had I ever had doubt, it was clearly removed; let me share.
Sometimes God answers our cries in His time. Sometimes, HIS time is faster than our time. (Pause, think about that phrase a second or two.)
Following a delightful lunch of chicken nuggets and a nutty-buddy ice-cream cone with my two precious granddaughters, (I spoil them whenever I go.) I decided to go to Mardel's Christian Bookstore and Market Street grocery. All went splendidly at Mardel's. I found the Alan Hall CD I'd been looking for and a tiny little book for 99-cents containing random "true" stories of JOY. How could I know what was right around the bend for me?
Annoyance. Cut off in traffic. I spewed, "Idiot!" and fumed three more miles.
Rudeness. "Someone" of great importance in the dynamics of my weekend plans, had still not returned my phone request from four days prior. Simmering bitterness painted my attitude brown.
Ire. My cell-phone charger malfunctioned and my cell-phone had only two bars of battery left. Result? I had to conserve how much I talked, or it would croak in the middle of a conversation.
I dusted off my growing attitude of frustration, displeasure and pity. I phoned my husband--"the saint"--and released the valve of my peeves. While he tenderly chided, I arrived at the grocery; I sighed slowly, then took a deep cleansing breath of cold air. With deliberate conviction, I mentally locked all my woes in the car. I excitedly meandered down aisle after aisle, selecting delights for my body and soul. I chose easy-toast waffles, delectable fruit, and Hawaiian sweet-rolls galore. I picked whole baby clams for chowder "someday", and stocked up on chicken and cheese. I bought eggs for souffle and iced-cookies for eaze and soon found my ire melting away.
Having spent all my wrath and much of my cash, I headed for the check-out lane. While standing in line, my friend, Angie, phoned asking to pick up a DVD we were sharing. I'd had it last, she needed it the next morning and we settled on a time for exchange.
I paid my tab with my debit and began to rejoice as I walked to the coffee shop in the corner of the store. A hot cup of fresh brew was just what I needed to top off my spree on the hour-long drive back to Lawton. I felt absolutely wonderful! The carry-out kid wheeled my groceries outside, and I reached for my keys in my pocket. Shock filled my being as I recalled leaving the keys dangling in the ignition of my van. Fear gripped my heart and my mind shouted, "No!" as my memory replayed my movements before entering the market.
Each pocket I searched confirmed my stored thoughts and I could see storm-clouds closing in on my joy. 55 miles from home. My hubby couldn't immediately bail me out. I only had 30.00 cash in my wallet. How much would a locksmith cost? What would I do with my groceries?
The carry-out kid took my goods to the dairy cooler. I called a locksmith who only charged twenty-five dollars. The locksmith arrived and couldn't get into my car. He used every tool at his disposal. He called for a key-code and it didn't work. Forty-five minutes later, I was no closer to driving back home. I prayed and I prayed. The locksmith was throwing his tools all around in the van. He was really really mad. I prayed once again.
"Dear Lord, why me? Are you trying to teach the locksmith a lesson--or me? Please don't use me to teach him perseverance and patience. I need to get home. My poor husband doesn't need to drive down here because of my addled brain," I pleaded. The thought came to me that in the study Angie and I were teaching on separate occasions was whispering words in my mind. "Lord, You got Priscilla Shirer a hotel room on a vacation. She said we should look to you even in the tiny things. You know I always do. What are You trying to teach me?"
I claimed Jeremiah 33:3 and reminded God of His promise there. "Call unto Me and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things which you do not know possible."
"Lord, this may not be as mighty a need as the war in Iraq. It may not even come close to a mother's prayer for a fever-sick child. But I really need Your intervention." The locksmith was murmuring louder, he'd just slammed the door of his van. "He's giving up, Lord; can't You see that? What would you have me to do?"
I thought of the "idiot" who'd cut me off in traffic. I remembered the roots of my angst and my ire. "Okay, Lord, I'm sorry. You can have all those things. I'm sorry for letting You down." I recalled the blog I'd written that morning. Silently, methodically, I choked down my words. "Oh, Lord, so much pride...I'm sorry for that, and will humbly cling to Your aid. But I have to get home. Angie needs the training DVD."
I called her and told her my plight as quickly as my dying cell-phone battery would allow. "God is yelling at me, Angie, He is! My house is unlocked, just go inside and get the DVD." Angie empathized and said, "No, He's not yelling at you, but I wish there was something I could do."
I told her that the study we're teaching was speaking to me in strange ways. (As often a study will do, when a person is teaching others. "He Speaks To Me", by Priscilla Shirer. That is the study both Angie and I were facilitating on Fridays and Sundays each week. What more can I say? I heard the Lord's voice and it was not at all comforting words.
"Just pray for me, Angie. My prayers are blocked. I have no idea what God's doing with this." I hung up the phone, the locksmith stuck a new tool in the passenger window and "Pop!" The doors were unlocked. I called Angie back and we both shivered from "goose-bumps" at God's timing in this. I gave the locksmith his fee and an extra five bucks. I would have given more if I'd had it.
I retrieved my groceries and shared the whole story of what God had just done in my life. The manager, store clerks and whoever would listen, till I was on my way home in my van. I thought of all this, and considered the words I'd written to you just this morn. When we utter our thoughts, they're tested immediately. And if we're listening at all, the Lord surely does "speak" ever insistently. Our pleas and our cries bemoaning our plights, are heard up in Heaven above. And sometimes He answers in an instant, and sometimes He tells us, "Hold on. You need to wait a minute." If we calmly wait and enlist others to pray, He shows us a miracle of sorts for our patience.
May the Lord bless your day and you find Him speaking in marvelous ways until we meet again. SelahV
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