God Rescued me. He sent an Angel. He really did. No joke.

I dedicate this to a real woman of God; a blogger friend who wakes up my laptop with a perky good morning faith I wish I had. Her heart warms me with her joyful laughter as I read her posts. She has blessed me more than she knows and I am deeply honored to call her friend.  God speaks to us in various ways; especially through Godly people as he has used her to do so with me. Please give yourself a treat and visit her blog. If you are like me and a very bad morning person, get a cup of coffee first. SHE IS ON FIRE EARLY!  Here is her link: http://strader612.wordpress.com

This is a true story. I have no witnesses. No pictures; nothing to establish the credibility of it except the truth. For me this event was a major turning point in my life; you could call it “one of my Damascus Road trips.”  Yes, I said it was one of my Damascus Road trips.

The year was 1981 and I was not living the way I was raised. Church on Sunday, choir practice, girl scouts, Wednesday night dinner and Bible Study and then of course Bible School in the summer. These were just some of the reasons I darkened the church doors outside of the fact my parents made me go as a child.   On this hot summer night I was far from any church door.

Driving home alone about midnight there wasn’t a car in sight. This sleepy town was usually in bed much earlier. I however was young and invincible; able to handle anything or at least my pride led me to believe such a lie.

Flat Tire

Flat tire. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Growing up in a family car business you would think I would have been taught how to change a tire. Why bother when I always had someone else to do it for me. This particular night I wish I had learned.

The back right tire had blown out and the car was veering off to the side. It could not have been darker as there were no street lights except for a few in the mall down the road. I managed to steer to the right into this empty parking lot before the tire completely gave out near the one mall light I could get to.

This particular mall was out in nowhere and way down in a ravine. Vision would be difficult in daylight to see the parking lot from the road, but almost impossible at night.

As I turned the car off, a fear set in I had never felt before. It was as if the devil had opened the passenger side door and sat down. It was tangible.  Horrific thoughts saturated my fragile mind.  Fears and torment of whom might come knocking on my windows swept over me like a storm.

I was shaking all over; the sweat poured down my face and I began to cry.  I really didn’t know what I was going to do. At least it was summer and I wouldn’t freeze to death.

Cell phones did not exist back in 1981. Looking back having one would have changed this “earthly hell” completely. I was terrified to get out of the car to look for a pay phone; from where I sat there was none in sight.

 Prayer

The fear by now had completely taken over my senses. Was I going to sit here all night alone and fearful to even look out of the windows of my car? Would it be morning before someone found me? How could I possibly sleep? Some stranger may attempt to open my non-electronic doors and grab me taking me into the unknown to do whatever they wanted. I cried more and slid down into the seat so no one could see me; not that anyone was around. It was then that a still, small voice I somewhat recognized told me to pray.

” Weeping” I said, “God, I haven’t talked to you in a very long time, but if you are listening, please help me.”

Drenched in my tears, thoughts of what to do clouded my mind. Terror-stricken to make a run for anything because there was nowhere to run to but being stranded, locked in my car was also just as frightening.  I cried out to God for him to do something. Anything.

About 10 minutes after I first prayed I peered slightly over the top of my steering wheel. There were two lights on the highway in the distance heading my way. A transfer truck signals revealed he would be turning into this large, empty dark parking lot because there was nowhere else to turn. I remember thinking, “why is he coming here?”

He parked the truck about 50 feet in front of me but to the left. My heart was racing; I could feel it beating out of my chest I was so scared.

The Cross

A small black guy around the age of 30 jumped down out of the truck and waved to me. Realizing my fear he stayed about 20 feet from the front of my car and told me I had a flat tire. He said “I am here to help you. Do not be afraid. If you will open the latch to your left, I will get the spare tire in your trunk out and change it.”

He made it clear I did not have to get out and he would keep his distance. I motioned him to go ahead and pulled the trunk latch open.  As he walked around to the trunk I noticed a rather large silver cross around his neck.

There was something very different about this young man. He was dressed in nice, khaki pants, with a short sleeved shirt. He had a baseball cap on his head and a beautiful smile.

It wasn’t his clothes or his smile that caught my attention.  He possessed a natural countenance of joy and charisma. A purity and innocent strength surrounded this stranger as he passed by me.

All of a sudden I felt the evil leave the front seat as if it physically moved.  Peace filled the inside of my car and covered me with protection.

He went to work as I sat there, waiting but not moving. Once finished, he walked in front of the car and spoke,

“You are ready to go. I put the spare tire on; just drive slowly and make sure tomorrow you buy a new tire.”

Holding a 20 dollar bill up to pay him, he shook his head and said “no thanks, the best thing you can do for me is go home, get some sleep and make sure from now on you don’t stay out so late.”

As he jumped into his truck, he waved goodbye and drove off.

The Realization

Safe and secure in my apartment I changed into my pajamas and began washing my face. Looking at myself in the mirror it suddenly hit me.

How could this person I had never seen before know my tire was flat?

How did he know I had a spare in the trunk?  It was the right back tire. It was impossible for him to see it.  For all he knew no one was in the car because I was hiding under the steering wheel.

Retracing his words he informed me I had a flat tire and a spare in the trunk. He also told me he had come to help me.  It was as if he knew this information long before he arrived. Deep in my heart it felt like he knew me, as if he had been coached on my life story. The light went off in my head and I heard that voice again telling me,

“I sent you an Angel.”

Unsure of the true existence of angels at that age in my life, 23, I crawled into bed and pondered this thought. Did God care enough about me to actually do something like this and if so why? I didn’t deserve anything from God.

Years later….

The years have come and gone since that frightful night, but one thing I know for sure. In my adult walk with the Lord, I know for certain Angels do exist because God sent one to rescue me. I have no doubt in my heart or mind this man was a very real Angel.

I have never seen him again.  Don’t know what his name was.  He appeared out of nowhere as if he was sent specifically to rescue me.

He knew me. I could feel that he knew me. The timing of his arrival; the cross around his neck; his transcendent presence. The immediate removal of the fear in my car left as he walked by it leaving a supernatural peace that passed all my understanding.

I remember it like it was yesterday. The details have been reminders of God’s shelter of guardianship over my life.

I felt completely cared for; safely wrapped in a love so pure I knew I had experienced a divine visitation.

How do I know this? God told me. And I lived it.

http://settledinheaven.wordpress.com/2012/05/12/the-fantastic-voyage-of-our-lives/

http://lifeofafemalebiblewarrior.wordpress.com/2012/05/12/another-perfect-stranger/

http://thewayeverlasting.com/2012/05/09/quote-eyes/

http://href.li/?http://larrywho.wordpress.com

Dethrone Yourself

Words .Everyday language or not. Depends on if you are the giver or the receiver of the words.

Hurts and pains from others dive deep into our heart making waves of emotions soar.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

Talk about a false, totally inaccurate, ludicrous statement.

A harsh word here, a crude word there spoken intentionally or unintentionally may last a lifetime.

Words created the world. Words start wars. Words end wars. Words are everywhere in this day and time. I thank God for glasses so I can read and write so many words. I happen to like words.

I wonder when God created words to speak the world into creation if his vocabulary included words like, hate, dislike, mean, ugly, filthy, prejudiced, kill, evil, etc., etc., etc.

If the Garden of Eden was perfect and good those words would not need to be in existence. This is all Adam’s fault. If he hadn’t sinned, our glossary options might be full of Galatians 5: 22 “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control, etc., etc., etc.

 Words are powerful. Words fulfill or betray. Words teach or abandon. Words are wise or stupid. Words are knowledgeable or ignorant. Depending on our use of words, reflects the true nature of our hearts.

Luke 6: 45 “The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks.”

A self-loathing attitude escapes their own anguish by belittling others with a list of coarse adjectives leaving them with a self-proclaimed prophecy. You are the words you speak. Good breeds good. Hate breeds hate.

Sticks and stones may not break bones, but words can break a heart into pieces through selfish ambition, discord, hatred, dissension, etc., etc., etc..

I like to play a game with God where I ask a question and he gives me the answer. Now I may not hear it for a while, but that isn’t his fault. I may have “selective hearing” or I’m a little slow on the uptake.  In fact I get excited when an answer shows up on my radar screen I asked 10 years ago!

We can’t make people do things or stop them from their cowardly treachery.

We can be responsible for our responses or actions to the spears of torment thrown our way. How?

By killing the flesh.

Rid yourself of the flesh; rid yourself of self. Then there is nothing left to be injured.

Forgiveness can only be brought about through God. The flesh in and of itself cannot forgive. Once flesh is gone, there is no injury to be remembered.

Dethrone yourself.

As you crawl or sliver off your seat of selfish impurities; before you hit the floor embrace God.

For every hit you take or slap in the face, embrace the love of God.

For every betrayal or gutless traitor who embarks on a journey to slander your integrity, embrace the forgiveness of God and forgive them.

For every ill fated blow sent your way, reach for God and live a new life with him.

As for the sticks and stones, just throw them away.

Photo by Randy Harrison
http://www.pbase.com/jrandyh

http://goldenbible.wordpress.com/2012/05/04/following-the-law/

http://samuelatgilgal.wordpress.com/2012/05/03/the-folly-of-ignorance/

http://settledinheaven.wordpress.com/2012/05/03/sihs-think-on-these-things-heb-1128/

http://thewayeverlasting.com/2012/05/02/quote-toward/

The White Horse of Christmas

Tonight I just returned from a Christmas Eve Eve Candle Light Service.  The church I attend is so large there are two services; one on Christmas Eve Eve, and another Christmas Eve.

The music was wonderful as usual. The Pastor spoke briefly using some very large Christmas boxes that made a puzzle picture out of them. After stacking 8 boxes on top of each other in 2 columns the puzzle revealed a majestic white horse with you know who riding it.

Over the last few weeks he has been speaking about how Jesus is no longer a baby. Tonight we “Crowned him King of Kings” as he rode his white horse in the last battle.

He used the scripture below to make his point. Revelation 19:11-16

¹¹ I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and wages war. ¹² His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. ¹³ He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. ¹⁴ The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. ¹⁵ Coming out of his mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. “He will rule them with an iron scepter.”^[a] He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. ¹⁶On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written:

   KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.

Jesus was born, lived for 33 years with a 3 year ministry. He died to save mankind, was resurrected, ascended into Heaven.

He is no longer a baby, or a child.

Jesus is alive and still on the throne.

As the words speak to us Armageddon is coming and we will be following Jesus riding on our white horses, dressed in fine linen, white and clean.

As we celebrate the his birth, be glad he was born, but remember he is our King without a crown of thorns. He is our Lord of Lords and no matter what anyone says, he is real and waiting. The battle may not be over, but he already won the war.

I am going to find my white horse. I am ready to ride.

Copyright 2011 “Did Jesus Have a Facebook page?”

The King of King Friendship Award

This morning as I was drinking my coffee and reading my emails I received one from Freedom Born; a wonderful Christian blogger who really gave me a great start for my day. She offered me the The King of King Friendship Award. Her link is http://www.freedomborn.wordpress.com.  Please check out her site as it is truly a gift from God.

This is how she presented it to me:

As my friend in the Lord and Sister, I would like to offer you personally The King of Kings Friendship Award…feel free to accept it or not, I know you clicked the like button as did a few others and I really appreciated your acceptance of my idea to uplift who we are in The Lord as the Body of Christ but I just wanted to make it more personal as I will do with the others who clicked like… we are one, we are family.

Anne, of  Freedom Born is from Queensland, Australia. How amazing is it that God created technology that we can make friends across the world? It behooves me to think of those who don’t believe in God or question it, as to how that could possibly happen. Knowing she is from a part of the world so far away and yet we share the same love for God is truly a miracle in itself. I have written often how creative God is. This is an example.

This is humbling. To be recognized by fellow Christians is a wonderful confirmation that the words God is bestowing upon my heart are reaching others. That is my goal.

God spoke to me this morning and told me to speak profoundly about how important it is for his people to seek him personally. It is the link missing in our churches today. Spending time alone with God, reading the words Jesus spoke, thanking him, and praising him for all the good in your life is paramount to everything. It is the glue that holds us together because without it, this life means nothing. And I say that from experience.

I share this award with all of you who have endeared my heart with your words, love and affection.  Maybe we have started our own revolution right here on Word Press.

The King of King Frienship Award

SAD

I dedicate this blog post today to a friend; my doctor who lost her son this weekend.   He was a 30 year old aspiring Realtor who battled a brain tumor since June 2010.

In the few short years she has been my doctor I have grown to love this  woman of God who is caring, funny, and  good at what she does.

About  a month ago she was given the news her son would not make it until Christmas. As I sat in her office listening to the sound of her heart that was breaking she told me how her son had told her he was sorry for putting the family through this. In his own pain, he was thinking of everyone else.

My husband sent me a text that he had received from the church that he had passed away over the weekend.  She lives down the street from us so I went over there only to find no one there. I left a note at her door; a note that I wept over as I wrote it.

One of the gifts God gave me is empathy. Sometimes I think he overloaded me with it because I end up in tears as I try to put myself in others shoes; knowing I am not even close to what they must be going through.  Having  enough heart ache in my own life, I don’t want to see people I love and care about hurting. My husband says something is wrong with me when I cry watching Hallmark Channel.

Even with my empathy for her, I cannot imagine what she feels right now. The closest that I know of was 12 years ago when my daughter’s best friend lost her battle to the same illness; it was overwhelming and incomprehensible. I still don’t understand it.

My prayer for her now is that God will give her peace, restoration and most of all himself. If God will qualify me, I hope that in time, he will allow me to use the empathetic gift he gave me to help her in the healing process.   Until then, I hold her in prayer at the feet of the cross, the throne of grace, and the loving arms of our Savior where I know she is safe.

 Psalm 34:18 The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Gulp….

Don’t you just love it when you “talk the talk” God gives you the opportunity to “walk the talk?”

God didn’t waste any time; I am eating my words.

As I checked my FB page I had some notifications. The other day I added a link of one of our fellow bloggers, Samuel at Gilgal’s post on my profile page about the national debt written by George Washington. The basis of the link spoke of how we as a nation should be wary or very careful of adding to the debt no matter what the reason.

Not pointing my fingers at anyone I posted this simply as a notification.

A high school friend of mine from way back replied with an obvious slam at my beliefs.  It was written in a statement sort of way but reading between the lines it was clear he was showing me that “my side” was the “big spender of our money” and the major reason for our major debt.

Of course my knee jerk reaction was to immediately reply with a sarcastic joint of my own to set the record straight.

And then I stopped, picked up my Bible and began reading it. Mind you, I have prayed for this friend a lot. Don’t know what happened to him or if he ever had a relationship with God or not; maybe I am the one who changed.

Before I could leash my incensed emotion at him, God spoke. “May I remind you of the post you wrote just the other day about not being offended? You should feel honored that he replied. He is, without knowing it, letting you know he is reading your posts. This is an indication that he is searching.”

Immediately my resentful attitude towards him changed. I began to pray for him. God’s way worked again and he used my own words to teach me.

I left the post without a reply from me. It is better for me to keep my mouth shut and allow God to respond.

How impersonal God seems is a measure of the distance you have put between you and God.  Grantley Morris

Grow Up? Why?

Yesterday I posted a semi-rant after watching a video from Facebook  from someone who believes the “occupy wall-street” protestors had every right to protest. Yes, our constitution allows for that. BUT WHEN DO WE GROW UP?

Most of those protesting appear to be young people; by that I mean younger than I am. Thinking back when I was their age protesting was not on my agenda. Maybe that was because I was too busy trying to graduate from college and get on with my life. Did I miss something? Oh yea. They want that on their resume!

“I was a Wall-Street Occupier. I sat in the cold for days on end, slept in a tent with no heat and ate bugs. I deserve a job.” I don’t have that on my resume. Will protesting be a requirement now to get a job?

Growing up these days is hard, I know that. I heard the other day we actually don’t make wise decisions until age 50.

If this is true what about the other 49 years prior to the big 50? Does this mean we don’t have to be accountable for ourselves? Does it mean we are excused for our stupidity for the 49 years prior to this?  I wish I was younger so I could be in this category.

For those of us who have already gone past the 1/2 century mark are we to be placed in the stocks  for working, raising children and paying our bills on time because we are held accountable?  Are we excused for the 49 years prior because I just read this on yahoo the other day? If so, that isn’t fair.

To be honest I know people who never grow up. Do you know anyone like that? It is as if they are stuck. I wonder if they want to be stuck. What happens before that magic day of accountability  when life slaps you in the face with something you can’t handle?

Do you run to those who are occupying wall street? Do you run to another unaccountable person like you? Do you run to the almighty government?

No. You run to someone who is accountable. You run to someone who loves you. You run to someone with answers.

His name is Jesus. 

Remember him? The one your accountable parents taught you about? The Savior who died for you on a cross that literally changed the world? The Lamb of God who is always with you and  will be with you when your life falls apart?

My advice: It is time to grow up America. Stop your protests and complaining and realize you live in the most blessed country in the world. You might want to do that quickly before it all falls apart because when it does happen you might be fighting  for that foxhole the atheists have jumped into.

Royal Wings of A Pauper

The Anhinga

This magnificent bird is called an Anhinga. The photograph was taken by my alumni friend John Randolph Harrison from Hilton Head Plantation in Hilton Head, SC.

Anhinga is known as snake birds. They swim with their head above water until they dive. They actually spear fish with their long beaks. Anhinga has a body length of about 33″ with  a wingspan of 46 inches and a body mass of about 48 ounces.

Their wings get waterlogged which is different from ducks so they have to dry them out before hitting the water which is evident here.  The bird will stay in this position for long periods of time to make sure his wings are dry. Their take off requires this because they have difficulty getting off the water. They must flap their wings vigorously to pursue a flight.

On the upside these huge birds have the ability to dive easily to search for prey and can stay under water for long periods of time.  Their meals consist of fish and amphibians.  These birds live in warmer areas and migrate toward the equator. The Anhinga is protected under the 1918 Migratory Bird Treaty Act. There are plenty of them so they are not endangered.

John posted this on his Facebook profile page. Once done, he had quite a few comments about this very unusual creature. Descriptions like, “he looks sort of royal,” or “Indian Chief.”  One admirer named him “King of the Hill.”

He is quite an impressive bird. The kind you take a second long-lasting glance at. His stately stance in this photograph is not at all what he thinks it is. This is a natural progression for his survival. He must do this to be able to catch his dinner.

As the Anhinga stretches his long wingspan to dry his feathers; my first thought when I saw this photograph was how majestic he looked. He must be a real “King of the Hill” to be able to flaunt himself in such a powerful position.  Who wouldn’t be impressed? What walking or breathing creature would not stop to view such a picture of royalty? Who would have thought the Anhinga must remain in this position until his feathers dried before taking flight to live another day?

I see a connection to our beloved Christ here. Before Jesus was born there were rumors of a Messiah coming; the people believed he would come in the form of a King or a Royal Priest.  Instead he was a baby born in a manger of hay, cattle and sheep. Once on earth, many felt deceived. He was not what they expected. Joseph, his earthly father was a carpenter and his mother, Mary was a quiet, young unsuspecting woman of God. Neither had any money or lived in a palace.

Just as the Anhinga performs what looks to be a royal stretch, does not make him “king of the birds.”

So it is with Jesus. Just because he wears the clothes of a pauper does not make him a pauper. God says it makes him “The King.”

Matthew 19:30 But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.

Shopping on Thanksgiving! No!

Yes. We did. We went shopping on Thanksgiving day. I don’t believe I ever did that. It seemed unholy. Almost secular. Not normal.

Since it was the two of us, my husband and I, we had our turkey around noon and decided to take this unusual outing. Few stores were open; most were closed. That made me feel a little better; almost like it used to be. But today it is a different place and a different time.

There were not enough cashiers and the ones working had a look on their face of “I don’t want to be here.” I don’t blame them. Maybe Thanksgiving was sacred to them but they needed the job. Maybe they had mouths to feed so they sacrificed their life long belief that you just don’t work on Thanksgiving to put food on their table. Maybe they were going to be alone on this day, so they  decided to work to fill the emptiness. Whatever the reason, I am not sure I like  the stores being open on this national day of thanks; no one knocked on my door asking for my opinion on the matter anyway.

I felt better that we bought some items for 2 children for Christmas that may be the only presents they receive. Finding a positive note to cover my guilt was prevalent in my thinking so I rationalized it. You know, giving is the point but not if it is out of a guilty trip to the store.

I don’t consider myself to be traditional except in a few ways. Pomp and ceremony are a part of life I avoid except holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. They were etched in a traditional stone when I was a child, but now almost being the blacksheep most of those traditions were broken years ago. Not by choice; mostly by circumstances out of my control.

Most of my family have never had to be away from each other at any time like I have. They have no idea what it is like to be alone on 2 of the most important days of the year. But I do. I understand the single mother exhausted from working and raising children by herself to the point she could care less what day it is. I know the intense pain of wondering if my family misses me because I am not there. I know what it is like to be sick and unable to join in the festivities because there is no one to drive me the distance to get me there.  My heart ached years ago when I first broke tradition even when I wasn’t trying to.

Now, the pain has subsided to, “this is the way it is so just accept it.” I have gotten use to it, but I don’t think my family ever will because they don’t understand since they have not walked in my shoes.

Finally, the truth is I have learned many lessons from being alone, and far away from my roots. I don’t get lonely anymore because Jesus has filled it with himself.

He has taught me how others who did not have a rose colored childhood like I did the misery of going through a holiday without.

He has allowed us to open our home to others who normally would be alone and enjoy a meal together in the name of God.

He has shown me that traditions can be broken and often must be broken so his children can receive his love in the midst of the loss.

He has healed my wounds and given me a passion to reach out to fill the need of someone else instead of thinking of me.

He has made me a much stronger child of God with a dependence on him I would not have discovered if I had never left the nest.

It is always worth the loss when you find God where you least expect him.

Are You Ready for Some Turkey???????

Ok. I am not what’s his name that just got canned from 20 years of saying “Are You Ready for Some Football?” No in fact I am not a football fan unless it is ……playing.  And even then I am not too interested.

I am one who loves turkey. My husband and I will be spending Thanksgiving alone this year; scheduling and being apart from family has interfered with anyone coming or us going. But that is ok. I am still thankful and am already cooking or trying.

Cooking is not a gift God gave me but that is ok too because he has given me other gifts. It is just that I love food (when someone else cooks). This is a problem though because no one else is around to cook for me. My husband suffers terribly from my inability to cook like Emeril Lagasse, Paula Deen or Rachel Ray. You should see him. He looks starved. Emaciated. You can see him on the corner begging for food. If he wanted a cook for a wife he should have read Proverbs 31 before he married me. (if you want to see a picture of him check out my blog post on Oct 27)

Ok Let’s talk turkey. I went to the store to buy for our dinner on Thursday. It looked to me like the shelves were empty.  I couldn’t find the turkeys.  Finally the Lady Butcher saw me looking lost I suppose.  I have a confession. It is a rarity if ever that I have bought a turkey so I didn’t know what I was looking for but didn’t want to appear like I didn’t know what I was doing.

Then she asked, “do you need some help?”
I replied, “yes. Can you help me pick out a turkey for 2 people?
“Sure” she said. “Try one of these Hen turkeys.” 

I am thinking to myself do I ask her what a hen turkey is or just take it and say thank you? I opted to show my lack of knowledge of the turkey world by asking. 

She was very kind and explained to me “a hen turkey is just a female.” wow. “thanks for the lesson” I said. She must have thought “that woman knows nothing about cooking.”

I admit I was rather proud of myself and couldn’t wait to tell my husband I had picked us out a hen turkey. When he came home he asked to see the turkey.

Opening the refrigerator I said, “I got us a hen turkey.”
He said, ” I didn’t think you would know what a hen turkey is?”

With a rather gnarling look I reluctantly replied,
“well, no but the Lady butcher did.”

He then realized I had not picked the turkey out myself.

If I don’t learn anything else this Thanksgiving, at least I now know what a hen turkey is.

Image via Wikipedia