Moving

Moving - chaos and excited discovery;
Sifting for a needle in a haystack.

Moving - cleaning and mountainous boxes.
Organizing is an x-treme sport.

Moving - tired and weary adrenaline;
Sorting through banjo-stringed emotions.

Moving - friends and serendipitous help;
Waiting for His renewed strength.

Moving – refuge and uneasy normalcy
Journaling is required to take a back seat.

“Daily Offerings”

When I visit Starbucks I usually take note of a sign behind the counter. It reads simply “Daily Offerings.” There you will find some sort of special drink for the day like a coconut freeze latte with goat milk whipped cream and brewed with a mix of Kenyan and Guatemalan coffee. That sign intrigues me, stirs me, prods me.

I think maybe we should post a similar sign in our quiet place as a reminder - a reminder that He is worthy…a reminder that our songs, meditation, praise, groans, music and shouts are not reserved only for Sundays…a reminder to bring an offering of praise into His courts…a reminder that a “daily offering” is fitting for our King.

“Every day I will praise you and extol your name for ever and ever.” Psalm 145:2

Grandpa's Prayer: The Rest of the Story

O.W. Harer pictured with the author

Grandpa was a student of God’s Word and a respected Bible teacher in our community. He left me a legacy of faith summed up in his rhetorical question to a group of high school students, “HE hasn’t failed me yet; do you think HE ever will?” Grandpa cared about those students and had taught most of them in the public school ministry he carried on for years.

In the 70’s someone got the idea of building a huge lounge in our little Blue Ridge community and dubbing it the Bunny Lounge. It dominated the landscape and was just about a mile from the high school. Grandpa didn’t like it! One particularly cantankerous doctor asked him at the time if he would pay the cover charge to get into the Bunny Lounge. His reply, “I would pay to get out.”

It was in these days that Grandpa expressed to the church his concern about the lounge and its impact on our community and our young people. A couple attending that morning recalls that during his prayer Grandpa prayed specifically that the business would “fail.” It took a little while, but the Bunny Lounge did fail. The Outer Space Connection took its place, and it failed too. So did Caesar’s Palace and the Music Barn. Over time in the framework of God’s handling of things, this couple would drive by, see a failed business, and the husband would comment, “God still answers prayer.”

Over twenty-five years later the lounge was purchased and converted into a business that manufactures splash guards for 18 wheelers. It’s owned by a Christian family who just recently erected a cross on the property with the words “Risen Savior” and “Jesus Saves.” A fine testimony that we should never ever underestimate the prayer of a righteous man. And as Paul Harvey would say, now you know the rest of the story.

Can’t Put God in a Box

Jerry told us today that he would be glad to bring our boxes from Texas to Tennessee in November. It was the culmination of a story that only God could orchestrate and one that begs to be told.

We left 15 of our boxes in the hands of Clay and Amanda in April. They were planning on returning to Nashville with their company and offered to bring our things out of Mexico on their moving truck. In June we got a note from Clay, “I have some news. Amanda and I are working on raising support now so that we can stay.”

Out went a batch of notes to our friends, “We have run into a bit of a snag with getting some of our boxes out of Mexico. We are wondering if any of you might be driving out any time this summer or fall.” No response. Then, days later, a note from Rob and Laura to whom we had not written nor ever met, “Just wanted to let you know that we would be willing to help bring some of your things back to the border in July.” Yes!

One huge problem resolved…kind of. We still needed to get the boxes from Puebla to Cuernavaca two hours away, find a place to store them in McAllen, Texas, and then get them to West Virginia. So, out went another batch of notes and again no reply. Last Friday, less than a week before the window of opportunity closed on this one, Debbie wrote. Senor Ernesto whom we had met only once was willing to deliver our things to Cuernavaca. We were relieved, but still unsure what we would do once they arrived in McAllen. Our thought was God got them out of the country, we don’t have to have the other answers yet, we’ll trust.

On Saturday I was driving past a house that has been sitting empty since our return. At one point we had been interested in renting it, but had never been able to contact the owners. Now here before me were people loading up trailers with furniture. I stopped to inquire about it. In the course of the conversation, it came out that we had just returned from Mexico. The owners said that the guy helping them lives in Rio Bravo. Outside I met Tom a missionary with ICCD. We talked awhile about Mexico. “By the way,” I asked him, “what is the US border town near Rio Bravo.” “McAllen.” With a bit of hesitation and a bit of hope, I ventured the question, “Would you know of somewhere that we could store our things?” His answer made my heart skip a beat. “Yes, contact Melanie at the United Methodist Church. They have a storage room there to help in these kinds of situations. And contact Buddy and Fanny, they work out the logistics. And contact Jerry in Kingsport, Tennessee. He’s coming with a group in October and has a partially empty trailer on the way back.” Was this too good to be true? Would God send someone to within a mile of where we are currently living to work out the final details?

I called Fanny that evening to tell her our situation. She not only was willing to help but happily went beyond the call of duty. When I expressed amazement, she said, “We pray and ask for these things; we shouldn’t be surprised when God answers.” I called Jerry today; sure enough he’s pulling a sixteen foot trailer and more than willing to help too.

I stand amazed (although I know I shouldn’t be) that we are left with yet another story of divine intervention, and a reminder that when it comes to working out the impossible you can’t put God in a box.