Here's what happened tonight!
I got back from church with my roomates and realized my phone was missing. So we called my phone. A random girl kept answering with loud music playing in the background. Rebecca and I drove to our church and kept calling the whole way. The girl continued to answer but kept hanging up. When we arrived at the church we realized that no one was there, so we drove back home.
On the way, the girl with my phone called us on Rebecca's phone. She was obviously a teenager who had found my phone at the public library that day and was texting all her friends now. I was getting angry because I thought I was never going to see my phone again. I mentioned that I wasn't being very Christian as I kept praying to Jesus that He would help me find my phone.
So we got back to my house and parked in front of the neighbor's house like we always do. We waved to the neighbors we hadn't gotten the nerve to meet yet as Rebecca was calling one last time before we gave up. I saw a teenage girl on the porch answer a phone in her hand and the echo of the hello rang in Rebecca's phone. I jumped out and exclaimed "you have my phone!!!!" In between extreme happiness and annoyance, I got out "THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FINDING MY PHONE!!!!" And "Next time you find someone's phone, tell them where you're at so they can find it"! I found out the young girl's name and told her mine. She was completely flabbergasted and slowly wandered back into her house after handing me the phone. Poor girl.
Imagine that! MY next door neighbor had found MY phone at the Public Library in Louisville, KY. I ran over again to her house and met her father. We exclaimed about God's goodness together and I told him he had a good girl and to tell her thank you again.
Who are the characters in the story? A naughty little teenage girl, and an unChristian acting sales associate. Who is the hero? The Lord Jesus.
Love you, God.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
A Dark Night Time
Well, I pretty much hate Louisville, KY right now. (I'm a bit too honest maybe). I don't know why I came here or where I could've gone otherwise. But here's where I am. I'm in this weird big city just tryin' to make a buck to live on. This is a far cry from where I imagined I'd be 10 years ago. I'm incapable of doing the things I dream, and bored with what I can handle. I'm afraid to commit to service to others and fed up with living for myself. I'm lonely without community, but glad I don't affect them or infect them with this negativity. I'm too old and out of options to be trained for anything new, but not good enough at anything to be good for anything. But it's not Louisville, KY. It's the girl who lives here that's the problem. And it's probably a good idea for me to learn how to be a blessing to this place rather than adding to its problems.
I work with Bobby, a bright 17 year old with his life ahead of him. He's thinking about moving out and being independent. Bobby has already been disillusioned by the church (what's new). Bobby has decided he's just gonna live a good life because he's offended by the idea of hell. And knows he can't beat it. I told Bobby that Jesus exemplified all that God is to us so that we could be assured that we can't beat hell. But that then He used his own blood to make us right with God. Bobby didn't really care. Nobody really does, it seems.
I read this article on Mother Theresa in Time Magazine. It talked about how these secret letters revealed that for the last 50 years of her life (that's half her life) she didn't feel close to God. But she was very persistent in serving the poorest of the poor till the very end. This makes me think that persistent faithfulness is more important than how we feel about it. It wasn't feeling close to God that kept her in his service. Sometimes I wonder what it was. Maybe it was the dear Lord Himself who sustained her for 50 years when she didn't even know it. It seems like it sure would make Christianity more attractive, and maybe more believable if Mother Theresa and I were a little less depressed about it, though. But if it's comparable at all, Mother Theresa had a bit more to be depressed about than I do.
I work with Bobby, a bright 17 year old with his life ahead of him. He's thinking about moving out and being independent. Bobby has already been disillusioned by the church (what's new). Bobby has decided he's just gonna live a good life because he's offended by the idea of hell. And knows he can't beat it. I told Bobby that Jesus exemplified all that God is to us so that we could be assured that we can't beat hell. But that then He used his own blood to make us right with God. Bobby didn't really care. Nobody really does, it seems.
I read this article on Mother Theresa in Time Magazine. It talked about how these secret letters revealed that for the last 50 years of her life (that's half her life) she didn't feel close to God. But she was very persistent in serving the poorest of the poor till the very end. This makes me think that persistent faithfulness is more important than how we feel about it. It wasn't feeling close to God that kept her in his service. Sometimes I wonder what it was. Maybe it was the dear Lord Himself who sustained her for 50 years when she didn't even know it. It seems like it sure would make Christianity more attractive, and maybe more believable if Mother Theresa and I were a little less depressed about it, though. But if it's comparable at all, Mother Theresa had a bit more to be depressed about than I do.
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Battle to Trust
To trust the Lord: is it about the most difficult thing to do sometimes? I say yes. I come up with a lot of reasons to question whether the Lord is trustworthy. Now, I know that He is. I have always known that He is. But the part of me that likes to see the proof, will take anything I think might be evidence against His good nature.
I've been pelted with this nagging feeling that I can't trust the Lord through many circumstances throughout life. But most recently one story keeps coming to my mind. As all kayakers know, you get tipped over. You just do. If you get in a kayak on whitewater for any length of time, you get tipped over. You pull your little wet skirt off and swim up out of it. Well I was in a kayak for 9 days straight this spring without going under. I thought, "evie, you're good" or just darn lucky. Or maybe I thought I had some special angelic protection around me because I deserved it because I refer to myself as a child of God. While everyone else was bumping around upside down in their little boats, I floated through the toughest of waters without a hitch..... until the day I didn't.
Just like everyone else, the rip roaring waves tossed my little boat over and there I was under the water with my 50 pound boat on top of me. Now we had all been taught the specific procedure of pulling your little lever and swimming safely up, but either the water pushed me back so I couldn't reach it, or I just plain panicked and couldn't find it. Whatever the case, I thought it was the end of little ol' me. I remember thinking, "I need air". "oh... this is it. the end" This is where I will instinctively take a breath only to gasp in a bunch of water and sputter up to heaven" Thrashing about, still unable to find the pull, my skirt popped off, and I swam up. The Lord saved my life. I was under deep water and the Lord saved my life. I was going to drown, and I wasn't saving myself. It was an obvious act of the Lord's mercy. I see that clearly until I forget it.
Days come when I wonder if God has a purpose for my life. Like today. I have a choice. 1. to believe that God put me under water, or 2. to remember that it was He who pulled me out. If He did both, He still pulled me out when I didn't have a chance otherwise.
Psalm 18:16
He sent from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters. He delivered me from my enemy, And from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me. They confronted me in the day of my calamity. But the Lord was my stay. He brought me forth also into a broad place; He rescued me, because He delighted in me.
The theme of the last 10 years or so of my life story has been that the Lord is the Good One. At times I like to think of myself as the main character. But let's be realistic here. the Lord God is the one who is Good.
I've been pelted with this nagging feeling that I can't trust the Lord through many circumstances throughout life. But most recently one story keeps coming to my mind. As all kayakers know, you get tipped over. You just do. If you get in a kayak on whitewater for any length of time, you get tipped over. You pull your little wet skirt off and swim up out of it. Well I was in a kayak for 9 days straight this spring without going under. I thought, "evie, you're good" or just darn lucky. Or maybe I thought I had some special angelic protection around me because I deserved it because I refer to myself as a child of God. While everyone else was bumping around upside down in their little boats, I floated through the toughest of waters without a hitch..... until the day I didn't.
Just like everyone else, the rip roaring waves tossed my little boat over and there I was under the water with my 50 pound boat on top of me. Now we had all been taught the specific procedure of pulling your little lever and swimming safely up, but either the water pushed me back so I couldn't reach it, or I just plain panicked and couldn't find it. Whatever the case, I thought it was the end of little ol' me. I remember thinking, "I need air". "oh... this is it. the end" This is where I will instinctively take a breath only to gasp in a bunch of water and sputter up to heaven" Thrashing about, still unable to find the pull, my skirt popped off, and I swam up. The Lord saved my life. I was under deep water and the Lord saved my life. I was going to drown, and I wasn't saving myself. It was an obvious act of the Lord's mercy. I see that clearly until I forget it.
Days come when I wonder if God has a purpose for my life. Like today. I have a choice. 1. to believe that God put me under water, or 2. to remember that it was He who pulled me out. If He did both, He still pulled me out when I didn't have a chance otherwise.
Psalm 18:16
He sent from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters. He delivered me from my enemy, And from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me. They confronted me in the day of my calamity. But the Lord was my stay. He brought me forth also into a broad place; He rescued me, because He delighted in me.
The theme of the last 10 years or so of my life story has been that the Lord is the Good One. At times I like to think of myself as the main character. But let's be realistic here. the Lord God is the one who is Good.
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