What I learned when I was ten: Bubblegum isn't a promise and neither is a ring.
What I learned when I was twenty: A ring and a wedding license are not a promise.
What I learned when I was thirty: A better, bigger ring and a wedding license are STILL not a promise.
What I learned when I was forty: A marriage is in your heart, not on a piece of paper, or in a ring.
So, that's what I know about "rings".
Friday, September 3, 2010
To My Future Mate
To my future mate,
I don’t know who you are
But I can feel you in my dreams.
I cannot see your face yet
But I can feel your touch it seems.
Your hands caress my face,
I can feel the warmth within.
Your arm about my waist,
Fingers tracing suntanned skin.
Your lips upon my neck
Passion to embrace.
I shudder in your arms
That we are FINALLY face to face.
I can hear your voice, so sweetly,
Whispering my name.
I have waited oh so long
Through this dreaded lonely game.
The stars that fill a thousand skies
Are shining upon you now.
But one day you will find me,
God will make a way somehow.
When you finally find me
Surprised surely you will be.
There is not another woman
As dedicated you will see.
Undoubtedly your best friend,
Always covering your back.
Undoubtedly your partner
Keeping you on track.
I will do my BEST to make you happy
And bring your life much joy.
But for now I’m just waiting
To find my mystery boy.
I don’t know who you are
But I can feel you in my dreams.
I cannot see your face yet
But I can feel your touch it seems.
Your hands caress my face,
I can feel the warmth within.
Your arm about my waist,
Fingers tracing suntanned skin.
Your lips upon my neck
Passion to embrace.
I shudder in your arms
That we are FINALLY face to face.
I can hear your voice, so sweetly,
Whispering my name.
I have waited oh so long
Through this dreaded lonely game.
The stars that fill a thousand skies
Are shining upon you now.
But one day you will find me,
God will make a way somehow.
When you finally find me
Surprised surely you will be.
There is not another woman
As dedicated you will see.
Undoubtedly your best friend,
Always covering your back.
Undoubtedly your partner
Keeping you on track.
I will do my BEST to make you happy
And bring your life much joy.
But for now I’m just waiting
To find my mystery boy.
Broken Memories
Loves may come and loves may go,
As we wander on our way.
But then you find a special one
That brightens up your day.
His laughter makes you giddy.
His touch, it makes you melt.
Of all the loves that you passed by,
This love, it’s the best you’ve ever felt.
His eyes are full of compassion
That he tries to hide within.
His determination is to live,
A life without a speck of sin.
As you watch the winding path,
Jesus shows this awesome man,
You sit and wonder why
Can’t he see the Master Plan?
Is he searching for the past
Where no future could ever be?
Is he trying to forget broken roads
And someone’s memory?
Reeling with frustration
Praying blinders are removed,
My God, whose showed me his plan,
Is the only thing, which soothes.
I must trust my Mighty Lord
In this plan that I can see.
It’s a matter of faith and time
To see if his road leads back to me.
As we wander on our way.
But then you find a special one
That brightens up your day.
His laughter makes you giddy.
His touch, it makes you melt.
Of all the loves that you passed by,
This love, it’s the best you’ve ever felt.
His eyes are full of compassion
That he tries to hide within.
His determination is to live,
A life without a speck of sin.
As you watch the winding path,
Jesus shows this awesome man,
You sit and wonder why
Can’t he see the Master Plan?
Is he searching for the past
Where no future could ever be?
Is he trying to forget broken roads
And someone’s memory?
Reeling with frustration
Praying blinders are removed,
My God, whose showed me his plan,
Is the only thing, which soothes.
I must trust my Mighty Lord
In this plan that I can see.
It’s a matter of faith and time
To see if his road leads back to me.
You Just Never Know When Someone Is Watching
Your contagious smile may bring life to someone’s saddened heart.
Your giddy laughter may spark a deep needed desire to live life more fully.
Your consistent honor may touch a heart to strive harder.
Your sanctified life may lead someone to follow you to Glory.
Me-
Your giddy laughter may spark a deep needed desire to live life more fully.
Your consistent honor may touch a heart to strive harder.
Your sanctified life may lead someone to follow you to Glory.
Me-
A Passing Moment of Outreach
A Passing Moment of Outreach
I’m waiting for you….
Our eyes they quickly meet
You look away from tattered and torn
Oh, don’t hurry so fast, son,
Surely you can see, I am forlorn.
You can see my entire life
In this plastic bag or metal cart.
You pause to invite me out of conscience.
But am I REALLY in your heart?
I’m waiting for you….
You see me on the street
And fear is all you feel.
Don’t tuck your head and hustle by. Please.
I didn’t ask to sell these drugs I deal.
Behind these eyes that flash
Angry attitude and bitter hate
Are broken dreams of a Sunday school kid
Who thinks he’s stuck in fate.
I’m waiting for you….
You’ve stopped and tried to witness.
I’m as drunk as I can be.
I’m just trying to make it to the next day, man.
There’s no future that I can see.
I can tell you want to leave
I’m sorry I smell so bad
But wait, please, do you know
That you’re the only hope I have.
I’m waiting for you….
I see you every day
A fine employee you make
I watch you come and go
I watch every step you take.
What’s so different here?
Is what I constantly ask.
“Must be a church girl”, I ponder.
Can she SEE this broken man and hidden flask?
I’m waiting for you….
I saw you from my window.
My daddy won’t let me play.
I saw all of you laughing and walking.
But Daddy told me, “Inside I stay.”
He’s reawwy mean to me sometimes.
Sometimes he hits me weal hard.
Please, please don’t go.
Don’t walk away from my yard.
I’m waiting for you….
College life has got me down.
Man, these books are piled high.
No time for anything, you think.
Oh, please don’t pass me by.
My life, you see, is filled with stress.
There’s no relief in site.
I’ve gotta prepare myself for my future.
I’ve gotta make everything seem right.
I’m waiting for you….
I’m waiting for you to remember me
When you lay down to sleep at night.
I’m waiting for you to pray for me
To tell me there is hope in sight.
I’m waiting for you….
Our eyes they quickly meet
You look away from tattered and torn
Oh, don’t hurry so fast, son,
Surely you can see, I am forlorn.
You can see my entire life
In this plastic bag or metal cart.
You pause to invite me out of conscience.
But am I REALLY in your heart?
I’m waiting for you….
You see me on the street
And fear is all you feel.
Don’t tuck your head and hustle by. Please.
I didn’t ask to sell these drugs I deal.
Behind these eyes that flash
Angry attitude and bitter hate
Are broken dreams of a Sunday school kid
Who thinks he’s stuck in fate.
I’m waiting for you….
You’ve stopped and tried to witness.
I’m as drunk as I can be.
I’m just trying to make it to the next day, man.
There’s no future that I can see.
I can tell you want to leave
I’m sorry I smell so bad
But wait, please, do you know
That you’re the only hope I have.
I’m waiting for you….
I see you every day
A fine employee you make
I watch you come and go
I watch every step you take.
What’s so different here?
Is what I constantly ask.
“Must be a church girl”, I ponder.
Can she SEE this broken man and hidden flask?
I’m waiting for you….
I saw you from my window.
My daddy won’t let me play.
I saw all of you laughing and walking.
But Daddy told me, “Inside I stay.”
He’s reawwy mean to me sometimes.
Sometimes he hits me weal hard.
Please, please don’t go.
Don’t walk away from my yard.
I’m waiting for you….
College life has got me down.
Man, these books are piled high.
No time for anything, you think.
Oh, please don’t pass me by.
My life, you see, is filled with stress.
There’s no relief in site.
I’ve gotta prepare myself for my future.
I’ve gotta make everything seem right.
I’m waiting for you….
I’m waiting for you to remember me
When you lay down to sleep at night.
I’m waiting for you to pray for me
To tell me there is hope in sight.
HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR DOG TODAY? HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR GOD TODAY?
1. Dog spelled backwards is God.
2. Dog is always happy to see us, even when we are away from him for 5 seconds.
3. Dog is always patiently waiting for us to give him what he needs. (Yes, God needs us. We are His plan.)
4. Dog teaches us to always listen for our Master's voice.
5. Dog is always forgiving, no matter how mean we are to him.
6. Dog shows us how to lie at the Master's feet.
7. Dog is there to warn us of danger and protect us.
8. Dog uses faith to dig a hole to find something that he cannot see.
9. Dog will chew on things if we ignore him and do not give him enough attention.
10. Dog is our lifelong companion.
HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR DOG TODAY? HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR GOD TODAY?
2. Dog is always happy to see us, even when we are away from him for 5 seconds.
3. Dog is always patiently waiting for us to give him what he needs. (Yes, God needs us. We are His plan.)
4. Dog teaches us to always listen for our Master's voice.
5. Dog is always forgiving, no matter how mean we are to him.
6. Dog shows us how to lie at the Master's feet.
7. Dog is there to warn us of danger and protect us.
8. Dog uses faith to dig a hole to find something that he cannot see.
9. Dog will chew on things if we ignore him and do not give him enough attention.
10. Dog is our lifelong companion.
HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR DOG TODAY? HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR GOD TODAY?
How to distinguish a prince from a toad……
A. A prince comes back around, long after that initial wonderful evening of flowers and dancing. Unlike the toad, he is not scared off by the emotional intensity, the closeness, or the promise of more in the future. He enjoys the warmth and passion involved in making true contact.
B. A prince seeks you out consistently and continually. You are not forced to sit by the phone, waiting for him to call. The prince calls because he wants to see you. The toad, on the other hand, avoids follow-up contact that might suggest he is actually interested in a relationship.
C. The prince asks about you and is genuinely concerned with your well-being. He remembers the things that are important to you. He knows what makes you happy and does what he reasonably can to satisfy you. The toad thinks only of himself and his needs.
D. The prince shares in the responsibilities for making the relationship work. He is, as I am fond of saying, "in the game." He realizes that it takes two to tango, and because he wants to dance, he will help learn the steps. He is willing to work on the problems that inevitably arise. He doesn't run when the going gets tough. He cares enough abut you to work at keeping the emotional bridge clear of any emotional debris. The toad would rather ford a raging stream than agree to cross that emotional bridge.
E. The prince wants to grow emotionally, spiritually, and physically with you. He has done some of his own emotional and spiritual work and knows what that looks like. Not only can he take care of himself emotionally, but he is willing, when appropriate, to take care of you as well. He is willing to explore and share spiritual matter together. Not so for the toad, who shies away from divulging anything that might make him see vulnerable.
F. The prince is faithful. He is a one-woman man. He closes off the other options. You both know that you can opt out at any time, but you have decided together that you want to be exclusive with one another. You want to create a safe place where you can blossom as a couple. The true prince commits while the toad plays around.
G. A true prince is concerned about character, not circumstances.
B. A prince seeks you out consistently and continually. You are not forced to sit by the phone, waiting for him to call. The prince calls because he wants to see you. The toad, on the other hand, avoids follow-up contact that might suggest he is actually interested in a relationship.
C. The prince asks about you and is genuinely concerned with your well-being. He remembers the things that are important to you. He knows what makes you happy and does what he reasonably can to satisfy you. The toad thinks only of himself and his needs.
D. The prince shares in the responsibilities for making the relationship work. He is, as I am fond of saying, "in the game." He realizes that it takes two to tango, and because he wants to dance, he will help learn the steps. He is willing to work on the problems that inevitably arise. He doesn't run when the going gets tough. He cares enough abut you to work at keeping the emotional bridge clear of any emotional debris. The toad would rather ford a raging stream than agree to cross that emotional bridge.
E. The prince wants to grow emotionally, spiritually, and physically with you. He has done some of his own emotional and spiritual work and knows what that looks like. Not only can he take care of himself emotionally, but he is willing, when appropriate, to take care of you as well. He is willing to explore and share spiritual matter together. Not so for the toad, who shies away from divulging anything that might make him see vulnerable.
F. The prince is faithful. He is a one-woman man. He closes off the other options. You both know that you can opt out at any time, but you have decided together that you want to be exclusive with one another. You want to create a safe place where you can blossom as a couple. The true prince commits while the toad plays around.
G. A true prince is concerned about character, not circumstances.
A testimony for those of you who do not believe in God or have trouble trusting God.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
A testimony for those of you who do not believe in God or have trouble trusting God.
In 1997, I met a man who wanted to date me. I never would give him a chance, because I was dating my ex husband. In order for him to even TALK to me, I made him fill out a 200 question application. To add insult to injury, I did not return the favor of the application. Yeah, I’m a brat!
In 2005, I received an email from this man through an email address on my business card from 1997.
I was very happy to hear from him, as I had thought about him often on my long journey those years.
He told me that I would date him for a year and then decide if I was going to marry him.
“Fair enough”, I said.
Several months into this, I REALLY began to seek God’s input on this. It seemed like the perfect cookie cutter story for me, complete with a young 4-year-old girl to raise. I could be a Mommy again!!!! To someone who thought I was their new, bestest friend.
However, I would have to give up everything and move away. My church, my house, my job.
I pleaded to God that I really needed to know something about this situation. These were big decisions for someone to make of my age.
I asked God for a dream. He gave me one that night. I was on a hill. It was windy. There were papers blowing around. This man was walking away from me. He was very unhappy that he was walking away from me. My sister was there. She picked me up and drove me up a hill. My dog was with us.
I was confused in the morning. What does THIS mean?, I pondered.
That night I asked for another dream. I got one. The results were very clear. This man was standing on the front lawn of his house with a pregnant woman, next to a tree. My newest best friend, Anny, was running around on the grass, being crazy as she always is. I remember seeing her run in and out of the house with some chocolate chip cookies.
I was not confused THAT morning. I said, “Uh oh, oh no!” I asked God, “What did the first dream mean?” He let me know that this man would be tired of waiting for my divorce papers to be finalized, since it had been a long ordeal, from the start to the finish.
I continued to see this man until he told me that he “could not do this Fresno / Sacramento thing.” I told him “Whatever he thought best, as I was the one driving 300 miles one way to see HIM each Saturday.”
It hurt a lot, but I knew that I needed to trust what God revealed to me in that dream.
Today, I received a phone call from this man. He was very upset. He is in a situation where he thinks he will lose everything. Also, he is expecting an unwanted baby. The girl had recently been moved into his house but is now living elsewhere, wondering why in the world she couldn’t change him.
How very scary that God showed me these things. But how very blessed I am that God loves me enough to protect me from a situation that he did not want me in.
And that’s my story of today.
A testimony for those of you who do not believe in God or have trouble trusting God.
In 1997, I met a man who wanted to date me. I never would give him a chance, because I was dating my ex husband. In order for him to even TALK to me, I made him fill out a 200 question application. To add insult to injury, I did not return the favor of the application. Yeah, I’m a brat!
In 2005, I received an email from this man through an email address on my business card from 1997.
I was very happy to hear from him, as I had thought about him often on my long journey those years.
He told me that I would date him for a year and then decide if I was going to marry him.
“Fair enough”, I said.
Several months into this, I REALLY began to seek God’s input on this. It seemed like the perfect cookie cutter story for me, complete with a young 4-year-old girl to raise. I could be a Mommy again!!!! To someone who thought I was their new, bestest friend.
However, I would have to give up everything and move away. My church, my house, my job.
I pleaded to God that I really needed to know something about this situation. These were big decisions for someone to make of my age.
I asked God for a dream. He gave me one that night. I was on a hill. It was windy. There were papers blowing around. This man was walking away from me. He was very unhappy that he was walking away from me. My sister was there. She picked me up and drove me up a hill. My dog was with us.
I was confused in the morning. What does THIS mean?, I pondered.
That night I asked for another dream. I got one. The results were very clear. This man was standing on the front lawn of his house with a pregnant woman, next to a tree. My newest best friend, Anny, was running around on the grass, being crazy as she always is. I remember seeing her run in and out of the house with some chocolate chip cookies.
I was not confused THAT morning. I said, “Uh oh, oh no!” I asked God, “What did the first dream mean?” He let me know that this man would be tired of waiting for my divorce papers to be finalized, since it had been a long ordeal, from the start to the finish.
I continued to see this man until he told me that he “could not do this Fresno / Sacramento thing.” I told him “Whatever he thought best, as I was the one driving 300 miles one way to see HIM each Saturday.”
It hurt a lot, but I knew that I needed to trust what God revealed to me in that dream.
Today, I received a phone call from this man. He was very upset. He is in a situation where he thinks he will lose everything. Also, he is expecting an unwanted baby. The girl had recently been moved into his house but is now living elsewhere, wondering why in the world she couldn’t change him.
How very scary that God showed me these things. But how very blessed I am that God loves me enough to protect me from a situation that he did not want me in.
And that’s my story of today.
David Duke and The Transiberian Orchestra
It was November 2007, the day after Thanksgiving.
With nothing to do that day, family too far away, I surfed the Internet looking for something to do in Fresno, California. I stumbled upon the Save Mart Center website only to see that the Trans-Siberian Orchestra was in town that night. I checked the available seating. Disgruntled to find that the only tickets available were up in the highest rows.
“Come on, let’s go”, my friend said. I hesitated to go, but my friend kept anxiously begging me to go. “I’ll go see if we can get tickets at the box office!” my friend said.
Within about a half an hour, I received a phone call. “Lani, I got the tickets! They are on the floor, right in front of the stage! I’ll be there shortly.”
I went from Trash to Treasure in minutes, from my sweatpants skirt to a dazzling orchestra outfit. We dashed out the door to make sure we were able to park in time.
Inside, we wandered through hundreds of people to find our seats on the floor. We ended up being there a bit early, due to our rush, so we had time to watch other people finding their seats, as well.
Soon, a disheveled man in a long dark grey coat wandered by and sat down two rows in front of us. His strawberry blond hair was dirty, matted, and in a ponytail. He carried two clear totes with him. You could see trash and cans inside the bags. As he sat there, my heart began to go out to him. I thought, “Maybe he had a different life at one time and he saved up all he could scrounge to come to his favorite show?”
As the dirty, disheveled man took a swig of whiskey from his pocketed silver flask, my friend grunted, “ No, that is Legion. He is full of devils.” Moments after that comment, the man arose and shuffled to another seat.
I told my friend, “No, he is not Legion. Maybe he was your test and you flunked it?”
My friend began to look around for the man and could not spot him anywhere. My friend searched for this man for several minutes. Surely one would see him if he were to leave, the exits being at the top row. I said, “See, it was your test. He was taken up like Elijah. It was your test. To see if there was compassion in your heart.”
The show began. It was a wonderful show. They played Classical Music. They played Heavy Metal. There was snow falling and flames shooting. The story was about an angel that was sent out into the dark night by God to find a heart, to find a soul. To find a soul from the past.
After about an hour or two, distracted by the amazing color light show, we looked up onto the stage. There was the man in the long grey coat. He shuffled over to the microphone and began to sing a beautiful song. He was part of the show! My friend looked at me and said, “You were right. He wasn’t Legion. I have learned a lesson.”
That night ended with a spectacular fireworks and light show. It was great!
Three days later, my friend stopped in a deserted part of town to add water to a leaky radiator. A homeless man approached my friend. He was dirty and disheveled. And my friend remembered the test from the previous night. The man started to say how cold he was and asked if my friend had any money for a cup of coffee. My friend asked the man, “Are you sure you’re not going to buy alcohol with it?” The man said, “No, man, I don’t drink.”
So, my friend handed the guy a five-dollar bill. Stuck under the bill was a church card I had made up to invite people to church.
As the man looked at the card and then looked at my friend, he said, “Are you Apostolic?” My friend said, “Yes, I am and I’d like to invite you to church.” The man, with tears in his eyes looked at my friend and said, “I’m from Highway City Church. I used to be the bus driver there for Sunday School. Everything just fell apart when I lost my wife and daughter.”
The conversation went on and my friend prayed for the man and said, “If you call me, I will come pick you up for church, at any location. Just call me. This is God, reaching out to you.”
It’s amazing to see how God works, with one little compassionate heart and one little lesson.
With nothing to do that day, family too far away, I surfed the Internet looking for something to do in Fresno, California. I stumbled upon the Save Mart Center website only to see that the Trans-Siberian Orchestra was in town that night. I checked the available seating. Disgruntled to find that the only tickets available were up in the highest rows.
“Come on, let’s go”, my friend said. I hesitated to go, but my friend kept anxiously begging me to go. “I’ll go see if we can get tickets at the box office!” my friend said.
Within about a half an hour, I received a phone call. “Lani, I got the tickets! They are on the floor, right in front of the stage! I’ll be there shortly.”
I went from Trash to Treasure in minutes, from my sweatpants skirt to a dazzling orchestra outfit. We dashed out the door to make sure we were able to park in time.
Inside, we wandered through hundreds of people to find our seats on the floor. We ended up being there a bit early, due to our rush, so we had time to watch other people finding their seats, as well.
Soon, a disheveled man in a long dark grey coat wandered by and sat down two rows in front of us. His strawberry blond hair was dirty, matted, and in a ponytail. He carried two clear totes with him. You could see trash and cans inside the bags. As he sat there, my heart began to go out to him. I thought, “Maybe he had a different life at one time and he saved up all he could scrounge to come to his favorite show?”
As the dirty, disheveled man took a swig of whiskey from his pocketed silver flask, my friend grunted, “ No, that is Legion. He is full of devils.” Moments after that comment, the man arose and shuffled to another seat.
I told my friend, “No, he is not Legion. Maybe he was your test and you flunked it?”
My friend began to look around for the man and could not spot him anywhere. My friend searched for this man for several minutes. Surely one would see him if he were to leave, the exits being at the top row. I said, “See, it was your test. He was taken up like Elijah. It was your test. To see if there was compassion in your heart.”
The show began. It was a wonderful show. They played Classical Music. They played Heavy Metal. There was snow falling and flames shooting. The story was about an angel that was sent out into the dark night by God to find a heart, to find a soul. To find a soul from the past.
After about an hour or two, distracted by the amazing color light show, we looked up onto the stage. There was the man in the long grey coat. He shuffled over to the microphone and began to sing a beautiful song. He was part of the show! My friend looked at me and said, “You were right. He wasn’t Legion. I have learned a lesson.”
That night ended with a spectacular fireworks and light show. It was great!
Three days later, my friend stopped in a deserted part of town to add water to a leaky radiator. A homeless man approached my friend. He was dirty and disheveled. And my friend remembered the test from the previous night. The man started to say how cold he was and asked if my friend had any money for a cup of coffee. My friend asked the man, “Are you sure you’re not going to buy alcohol with it?” The man said, “No, man, I don’t drink.”
So, my friend handed the guy a five-dollar bill. Stuck under the bill was a church card I had made up to invite people to church.
As the man looked at the card and then looked at my friend, he said, “Are you Apostolic?” My friend said, “Yes, I am and I’d like to invite you to church.” The man, with tears in his eyes looked at my friend and said, “I’m from Highway City Church. I used to be the bus driver there for Sunday School. Everything just fell apart when I lost my wife and daughter.”
The conversation went on and my friend prayed for the man and said, “If you call me, I will come pick you up for church, at any location. Just call me. This is God, reaching out to you.”
It’s amazing to see how God works, with one little compassionate heart and one little lesson.
Learning From Example
For those of you who don't know Beth Moore, she is an outstanding Bible teacher, writer of Bible studies, and is a married mother of two daughters. She is a member of First Baptist in Houston. This is one of her experiences: April 20, 2005 At the airport in Knoxville.
*******************************************************************************
Waiting to board the plane, I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego.
I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy gray hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.
I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport...an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere?
There I sat; trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.
Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.
I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind.
"Oh, no, God, please, no.” I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!"
There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane."
Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair."
The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No-brainer. I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm you're girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him. I am going to witness to this man."
Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair."
I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?"
God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly furnish you unto all good works." (2 Timothy 3:17) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.
Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"
He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?" "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that." At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?"
At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks.
Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to." Are you kidding?
Of course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased.
“But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush." “ I have one in my bag," he responded. I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls.
Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull. A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me.
I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair. I know this sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I - for that few minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while. The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's.
His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?"
He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures, I thought. He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior." He said, "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride."
Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it.
Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft. I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?"
I said, "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!" And we got to share. I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on, but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need!
I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way... all because I didn't want people to think I was strange.
God didn't send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.
John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
"To the world you might be one person, but to one person you just might be the world".
*******************************************************************************
Waiting to board the plane, I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego.
I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy gray hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.
I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport...an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere?
There I sat; trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.
Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.
I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind.
"Oh, no, God, please, no.” I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!"
There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane."
Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair."
The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No-brainer. I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm you're girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him. I am going to witness to this man."
Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair."
I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?"
God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly furnish you unto all good works." (2 Timothy 3:17) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.
Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"
He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?" "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that." At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?"
At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks.
Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to." Are you kidding?
Of course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased.
“But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush." “ I have one in my bag," he responded. I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls.
Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull. A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me.
I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair. I know this sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I - for that few minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while. The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's.
His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?"
He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures, I thought. He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior." He said, "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride."
Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it.
Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft. I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?"
I said, "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!" And we got to share. I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on, but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need!
I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way... all because I didn't want people to think I was strange.
God didn't send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.
John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
"To the world you might be one person, but to one person you just might be the world".
What Are You In It For?
Each time we go to church we are selfishly concerned about what we are going to wear, what hairdo we are going to sport, who is going to be there, who is going to preach, and what time we are going to get out of service.
…………….But church is not about that and it’s time we wake up.
I live in a very rough city. My church is in a rough part of this rough city. But I love my pastor and his wife…. And that is where the power of God is falling.
Last night on the way into prayer, I was busy texting my pastor’s wife. She is my best friend and we love being dumb together.
As I was texting, a very tall black man stopped me in my path. In his hand he had a crumpled brown sack, toting a beer he had just purchased from the liquor store down the street. As I stopped, stepped back, and braced myself for what was to come, he begged, “Don’t be afraid.” “I can tell you are afraid of me.”
There was no one crossing the street to the church. No one outside. I thought, “What in the world am I going to do?”
I said, “I’m not afraid of you”, as I squared my shoulders. He said, “Yes, you are.” I squared my shoulders and told him again, “No, I am not afraid of you. I have lots of black friends.”
He began to tell me how much he was hurting in life and that I was going to be his wife. Nicely and calmly I began to witness to him and invite him to church. But I have never been so scared. I could not read his eyes, and that bothered me most of all.
As I kept listening to him, he grabbed my wrist, right above my pepper spray. (I had put my keys over my finger with the pepper spray and keys dangling down. My hands were full of my bible, a clutch, and my phone. Please don’t carry your keys this way!) I thought, “Oh no, here we go.”
I thought about running. I thought about screaming. And God told me, “No, you are the only church he sees.”
He continued talking to me, telling me he was a Crip gang member. He lifted up his shirt because he wanted to show me all of his stab wounds and how he didn’t want that life any more. He had A LOT of stab wounds all over him, even on his head. Yes, he did have a knife under his shirt as well.
He told me he was an alcoholic and asked me to pray for him. I said, “Yes, I will pray for you. I am studying to be a substance abuse counselor.” That gave me the opportunity to put his arms, at least, under subjection. I was very nervous because by that time he had tried to get me to move down the sidewalk with him and he had even touched my hair and moved it off my face.
This was the real deal folks.
After I prayed for him, he desperately grabbed my arms again and wanted me to go down the street with him again. He was pleading almost screaming to me, “I just want somebody to love me! I just want somebody to love me!”
I continued to be calm and friendly, inching into the street where cars or people would stop if they came.
Enough people finally started coming that he went on his way, but let me tell you..
Church, you better be prayed up. You better not be thinking about what hairspray everyone is using. You better be able to go BOLDLY to the throne when you pray for someone. It might mean your life.
…………….But church is not about that and it’s time we wake up.
I live in a very rough city. My church is in a rough part of this rough city. But I love my pastor and his wife…. And that is where the power of God is falling.
Last night on the way into prayer, I was busy texting my pastor’s wife. She is my best friend and we love being dumb together.
As I was texting, a very tall black man stopped me in my path. In his hand he had a crumpled brown sack, toting a beer he had just purchased from the liquor store down the street. As I stopped, stepped back, and braced myself for what was to come, he begged, “Don’t be afraid.” “I can tell you are afraid of me.”
There was no one crossing the street to the church. No one outside. I thought, “What in the world am I going to do?”
I said, “I’m not afraid of you”, as I squared my shoulders. He said, “Yes, you are.” I squared my shoulders and told him again, “No, I am not afraid of you. I have lots of black friends.”
He began to tell me how much he was hurting in life and that I was going to be his wife. Nicely and calmly I began to witness to him and invite him to church. But I have never been so scared. I could not read his eyes, and that bothered me most of all.
As I kept listening to him, he grabbed my wrist, right above my pepper spray. (I had put my keys over my finger with the pepper spray and keys dangling down. My hands were full of my bible, a clutch, and my phone. Please don’t carry your keys this way!) I thought, “Oh no, here we go.”
I thought about running. I thought about screaming. And God told me, “No, you are the only church he sees.”
He continued talking to me, telling me he was a Crip gang member. He lifted up his shirt because he wanted to show me all of his stab wounds and how he didn’t want that life any more. He had A LOT of stab wounds all over him, even on his head. Yes, he did have a knife under his shirt as well.
He told me he was an alcoholic and asked me to pray for him. I said, “Yes, I will pray for you. I am studying to be a substance abuse counselor.” That gave me the opportunity to put his arms, at least, under subjection. I was very nervous because by that time he had tried to get me to move down the sidewalk with him and he had even touched my hair and moved it off my face.
This was the real deal folks.
After I prayed for him, he desperately grabbed my arms again and wanted me to go down the street with him again. He was pleading almost screaming to me, “I just want somebody to love me! I just want somebody to love me!”
I continued to be calm and friendly, inching into the street where cars or people would stop if they came.
Enough people finally started coming that he went on his way, but let me tell you..
Church, you better be prayed up. You better not be thinking about what hairspray everyone is using. You better be able to go BOLDLY to the throne when you pray for someone. It might mean your life.
Or someone else’s………….
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