I continue to be in awe of the faithfulness of the Lord. I do not want to ever forget His goodness, love, and grace. I believe it is a key to having true and lasting joy. So here I would like to share my stories. Hopefully they will quicken your memory to the stories that belong to you…
I hurriedly gathered my stuff and headed toward the door, as soon as staff meeting ended. I stopped by my leader on the way out and explained my 5 year old niece would more than likely be waiting for me. It was 10PM. As I came through the door her blue eyes grew, as she exclaimed, “you’re home already.” As I climbed into my bed with my occasional roommate nestled onto the trundle bed next to my bed, looking quite princess like, with a slightly excessive amount of pillows underneath her light frame, we began to chat. She asked me questions about my work, which she seems somewhat offended by, simply for the fact that it pulls me away at times. She asked me if I pray for people who don’t know Jesus. “Sometimes,” I replied. “Aunt Anna, do you pray by water fountains,” she asked. A little taken back by what seemed a random question I though maybe we should stay here for a moment. She went on to describe to me the water fountain that she saw surrounded by green trees. I then replied, “well, Emma, maybe that picture was from Jesus.” Without a moments pause, she said, “Aunt Anna, all my pictures are from Jesus.” I was speechless.
May we be filled with the childlike faith that does not waver, but give Christ the credit for any good that stems from our lives.
“Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.” -James 1:17
We received the perfect welcome back to our old neighborhood Saturday afternoon. A friend of mine was standing on the front porch talking on the phone. Let’s just say we are the minority in our neighborhood, which we love. One neighbor was pulling into his driveway, and how shall I say it, hit a parked car. He got out of the car and looked at my friend, and said that was because of you. She looked behind her. No one was there, no denying it, he was talking to her. He jokingly told her it was her fault because he was looking at her. We came back to DC with a bang, literally…
I spent 2008 living in community. Now living in community can be a lot of things, and honestly sometimes it comes down to what you make of it. In our community 4 of us girls happened to wear the same size and have the same pair of flip flops from Target. This meant often waking up to Shanequa saying, “who took my flip flops?” 🙂 This was promptly followed a well articulated paragraph expressing her confusion as to how the ambiguous flip flop bandit should be able to “feel” the difference in her flip flops as opposed to their own. I had my own strategy when it came to flip flops. I only took mine off at the edge of my bed. Sorry for wearing my shoes in the house, but sometimes a girls gotta fin for herself. Okay, now to the juice. I have a confession. I was digging through my shoe bin the other day searching for matching flip flops. Trying to avoid the moment where I am out somewhere and look down to find one brown flip flop and one black flip flop on my feet. It may or may not have happened before? Anyway, digging through the bin, I found 2 brown left flip flops. Uh oh, sorry Shanequa, or whoever this lone brown flip flop belongs to… I am the flip flop bandit. I swear it was unintentional, but it was me. And I didn’t just take your flip flop and run to Safeway. I brought it all the way to Texas. My conscience couldn’t let this one slide. I have another confession, I laughed. It brought back all the memories of life in community, those quirky moments I will never forget.
*names have been changed to protect the innocent
Layne and I set out on an adventure riding the light-rail train from our friend Gabby’s college to a local Pete’s Coffee and Tea. As we approached the tracks the train pulled up. We were still some distance away, and noticed most of the students running for the train. We hesitated for a long while, then at the last second began to run. Just as we got the train the doors closed, we were seconds too late. So we resorted, to our only option left, waiting in the rain for the next train. We soon understood why the others had run. Finally the next train arrived.
Like true out of towner’s we just hopped on. Near the end of our jaunt, I notice an officer collecting tickets. One problem, Layne nor I had a “ticket.” It felt a little like a scene from a movie (okay, maybe a Mary-Kate and Ashley movie, but a movie none the less). He must have seen a look of guilt, because he made a bee-line for us. He asked for our tickets, then our ID’s. He was a little disturbed by the fact that the Kentucky girl had a DC license. Suspicion only grew. The next stop was ours, he said he was coming with us. He questioned us for a bit. Reasoning was not on our side. Finally I explained to him we were with a team in DC, missionaries, and from out of town. Something in him changed, and he said he wouldn’t write us the citation. We let out a deep breath, and thanked him for his grace. Right before we walked away, I asked him if there was anyway we could pray for him. He said “pray for me, really? I am giving you girls free day passes.” He was so moved by the fact that we wanted to pray for him that not only did he not give us the ticket that was rightfully ours, but he gave us free tickets for the rest of the day! Phew, thank you Lord for taking care of your sometimes spacey girls. (We later found out that the citations would have cost us a hefty 100 bucks)!
keep coming back, more stories to come…