Predator

Now, why did I have to dream about him?  In spite of things that happened in my childhood and teen years, I haven’t been plagued by those kinds of dreams. Why now?

                There was a large glossy topped table between us but it was obvious that he was after me. I would rapidly walk a few steps then stop. So would he. He would cross his arms and give me a slightly sneering grin. I glanced around at the wood-paneled walls. No windows and doors in sight, no escape route. I started moving again and so did he. This kept on for a while. I knew he was just wearing me down in his tormentingly leisurely way.

                I dropped to my knees, putting my head on my arms, and cried out to God. Then my alarm rang.  He vanished, but I was still troubled. Why did I dream about him?

                My husband had an explanation that echoed my own.

                “It was a good dream,” he said. “Because you knew where to turn, you cried out to God.” (Something like that.) “Your Dad represents evil to you.”

                But why did I dream it? Why, why? And then I knew. There are those of you that are facing situations like that. You and ‘him’ seem to be going round and round the table.  He ‘knows’ he will wear you down eventually and is gloating. But will he? Does he have to? No. Sure you have an adversary, but you also have an Advocate. Jesus is our protector and guides out of difficult situations.

                But do you have an advocate? Have you found Jesus to be a haven of rest ‘in the trying scenes of life’ as one song put it?  He doesn’t wave a magic wand and make all your troubles disappear but He will be there for you making you stronger, giving you comfort. Admit that you can’t ‘escape’ on your own. Admit that you are poor and needy in need of a Savior and commit everything to the lovingly Heavenly Father’s care. 

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Behind a Boarded Up Window

Some people you never forget, no matter how much muddy or swift flowing water runs under the bridge. YOU are one of those people. It's been months now since our contact was broken but I still think about you and pray for you from time to time. My heart is heavy. You or someone like you from that sex slave commune reached out to me, I tried to help, in weakness, I tried to do my little part but the contact was broken. I grieve for you knowing how desperately evil your 'masters' are. But what can we do when even the local police are in cahoots with the perpetrators? Thank you for being brave enough to open your hearts and share with me. I know several of you did after I gained your trust, but now I am left in the dark yet I can still pray. Have any of you been able to escape? What wouldn't I give to reconnect and have you call me Mommy, again?
Here's the article that got me thinking about you once more. XOXOX!!

Behind a Boarded Up Window

Good morning, dear one. Did you think I had forgotten you completely? At first, I was picturing you standing lonesomely by a small window and looking up at the stars, but then I remembered, you don’t even have that option.

Behind a boarded up window: never to see the cheery sunshine dappling the leaves and making the flowers to glow, never to feel the soft breeze against your skin or enjoy the scent of fresh new growth…

Did you think I have forgotten you? No, never. I am sorrowful that our connection was lost, and pray earnestly that it can be restored once again. I pray that you can feel Jesus’ Presence surrounding you and comforting you. I hope and pray that somehow you will be able to see this message. That would be so delightful!

And by posting this I am praying that others will become aware of the slavery that is going on behind closed doors. It is my longing and heartfelt desire that through united, fervent prayers girls like you will be set free both spiritually and physically.

Have I forgotten you and your companions that I think of as my beloved children? No never, not for a moment. You are in my heart and prayers. Someday, somehow Jesus will set you free.

Keep praying, and I will too. Oh, I do hope this message will get to you. Remember; always remember that I love you and that Jesus’ love is strong and eternal. Keep trusting in Him. ‘They’ can’t take that away.

XOXOX

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Disembodied Voice

I woke up abruptly at 4:28 one morning. Someone said “Mom, hey, Mom “clear enough to get me up and look out our bedroom door. We have a daughter who had moved back home so I thought it might be her, but no, no one was at the door. I even checked where she sleeps, but all was quiet and dark in her bedroom, and she later told me it wasn’t her.
Was it you? Did you call out last night? Did you need something or someone? Was/ is your heart aching, or sadder yet, breaking, perhaps because of some terrible turn of events in your life?
Something nudged me awake. Someone called out in anguish, perhaps unknowingly, but God let me hear the message. I just want to let you know you have been in my heart and prayers ever since.
Call if you need someone to talk to.
echoingheartbeats@gmail.com
Or hangouts.

P.S. There is a remarkable, but sad ending to this story. After I posted it someone from half a world away read it and messaged me on hangouts. Yes, it was she who had called out to me. She was in the throes of childbirth, and I walked her through the process. After a bit, she said there was a huge pool of blood on the floor, and she was all alone.When she said "I see God's light and you are in it" I figured she would soon die.Later she said she had a boy, the next two texts were gibberish, then nothing.  I was later informed by someone that she had died and I hope the baby did too because the males are used for sacrifices or trained to become 'masters' themselves.
 P.S. She was eleven years old and in a sex slave commune that I had been in contact with only through Google.  These girls are often in my prayers, but how can we help them? I found out the HARD way that the local police are in cahoots with the 'slave masters'.  This postscript was added months later and I still feel deeply, and pray for 'my' girls. Unfortunately, the contact has been broken.

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

A Stranger in Our Midst

As Joy entered the large Sunday school room where Bible Study would be held, a warm feeling stole into her heart. She looked at the cheerful, complacent faces of her brothers and sisters who had ended up in the same class as her and it increased the feeling of security.

               A visitor was in their midst, and although many smiled cordially at him, no one was bold enough to ask for introductions; that is until Clifford came in.  Clifford had them all introduce themselves and the stranger said his name also. Joy heard him say David Schmidt clear enough, but his accent was unfamiliar so she couldn’t catch where he was from.  

               Soon her husband, Nathan, started the discussion by reading the first verse of the text and they continued around the circle until done. The danger of being led astray by false teachers was a weighty topic and led to a lively discussion. It seemed like everyone in the room was deeply concerned that they follow Jesus as closely as possible so that they would not be deceived.  Mention was made of losses in their midst, because of choosing an ‘easier’ way.  Joy loved being in Bible study: it felt like the walls of the invisible church were so strong and secure when she sensed the Holy Spirit’s presence flowing from heart to heart. All too soon the second bell rang and they filed out. Nathan stopped to shake David’s hand, and Joy listened to what the two men had to say.

               “Why don’t you ask him if he has a place for the night?” Joy whispered to her husband, so he did.

               Soon the church service was over and David seemed reluctant to get into the car. Joy wondered how he had gotten to the meeting but didn’t think it was appropriate to appear too inquisitive. Since he seemed like such a quiet, yet likable fellow, Nathan and Joy soon found themselves chatting with each other while he listened intently.

               David seemed taken aback when he saw their house. It took a moment for him to find his voice.

               “Is this where you live,” he asked?

One Way Solution

https://www.createspace.com/6618341

 

Is the Head Covering Optional

I grew up without wearing a head covering and never thought twice about it. Probably you did too, or maybe you belonged to a conservative group where it was the custom to wear some sort of veil at least in public religious services. Is it really necessary:  or is it a tradition that has more or less fallen by the wayside? What do you think? I’d love to hear your opinions.

Why did women wear it for so many years, no change that to centuries if it was just, well, fashion? 

Something Supernatural? You're Kidding Me!

I suppose you are wondering if the euphoria of being healed wore off after a few weeks,

The Twins Are Still Separated

Two Mothers, Twin Daughters

Chapter Nineteen

Some folks seem to enjoy reading excerpts from the book I am writing, so I’ll update you once again.

T hree years went by, and the twins were still separated.

Margaret listened; for once the children were quiet. It seemed they had settled down nicely for their naps, the two younger ones, that is, and Davey Juniour wouldn’t be released from school for another hour or so.  She reached for her Bible on the nearby nightstand and took the latest letter from Marita out from just inside the back cover and clutched it in her hands while bowing her head in prayer.  The much read letter was already a year old so Margaret carefully unfolded the sharp creases to read it once more.

“Dear Margaret,

I can’t bear to tell my dear mother-in-law what we are going through so hope you can take it since I feel I would crack up if I couldn’t share with someone!

Randall’s out of work—again, has been for three months this time. In a way I am not sorry he lost this job but we are in desperate straits. He had had an epileptic fit while on scaffolding and fell. The job wasn’t waiting for him when his leg finally mended.  

Sometimes I am at my wits end to know how to respond to him.  We are hungry nearly all the time but I know he finds enough money to spend on beer. How long must I excuse his behavior on the war? Does David sometimes seem to be unreasonable---still?

Oh, Margaret, what can I ever do? I would offer to take in babysitting but our one room suite and half bath are far too crowded to entertain extra children. 

Thank you so much for the gift of money you slipped in your last letter.  Oh, Margaret, it’s a good thing Randall wasn’t home when the mailman arrived with the cash. I bawled buckets and Emily was all over me trying to comfort me so I tried to tell her they were happy tears.

I  hope I can someday repay you.  I have to dole it out slowly so he won’t get suspicious and wonder where it came from. As it is I have to hide it because he rifles through my purse in the vain hope I’d have some money stashed away.

So far I have only bought a small bag of oatmeal and some powdered milk with the money, and oh yes, a bag of carrots because they keep for a long time in the icebox,  we won’t go hungry for a while.

Emily is healthy, for which I thank the Lord. Her sweetness and innocence helps me to trust our Heavenly Father more. I have much time on my hands so often turn to Mum-in-law’s Bible in time of need. I still worry a lot and get sharp with Randall way too often, but I’m glad I have Emily and I’m glad I have God.

Lots of love, |
Marita

P.S. Sorry for being so full of myself: I really do want a long, fully detailed letter about everything that’s going on in your life and especially about Alice.  (Sorry if I sound selfish.)

P.S. 2. We are in Vancouver now, but I’m sure we will be moving soon.

Margaret refolded the letter then gently placed it back between the worn covers of the Bible.  She sat lost in thought until her burdened heart caused her to slip to her knees in prayer. She laid her head on her arm.

“It’s been so long, Lord. Marita is almost dearer to me that a flesh and blood sister might be. Please be with her. Keep her, comfort her, and help Randall to overcome his drinking habit. Thou knowest what awful memories are still gripping him, and we don’t.  Thou knowest the anxiety Marita faces: please help him to find a good job, and keep it. May Marita continue to call upon you when the floods threaten to overwhelm her—“

“Mommy, Alice spilled the milk on the floor!”

It was obvious that Sally would have gotten the milk out of the refrigerator because Alice was too young to handle the door.  Alice was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor with a tea towel.

“Let’s not use a tea towel to clean the floor next time, okay, Sweetie. Sally, you fetch a rag from the rag bag.”

“But she spilled it!”

“Just do as I tell you.”

 “Alice, wait for Mommy to pour your milk for you okay”— she almost called her ‘Sweetie’ again but  remembered it was too easy to favor the daughter of her troubled friend over the other two.

Margaret was thoughtful, prayerful, as she tended to her motherly duties . They walked to the corner to meet Davey and he prattled joyfully about his day at school, she served the trio cookies and milk, but hardly heard him.

David came home two hours later and once again Margaret was so thankful that the man she married had a steady job as a mechanic. There were still far too many veterans drifting aimlessly through life, addicted to the bottle, and not coping well with their violent past. David seemed to be so steady in comparison. 

Imitate Hezekiah

Have you ever been reluctant to do something good because you were indulging in something even better? The most sacred time of the day by far is in the early morning and late at night when everyone else is possibly sleeping. Sweet communion with the Heavenly Father is...matchless.

But-- and nay, I will not even sigh-- before dawn's early light God was inviting me to share this joy, this beauty with others like you. He had whispered the suggestion yesterday and I was prayerfully wondering how I could do justice to such a lovely topic as communion with the Father.

But do you know what? He introduced a new twist: the Bible opened to a verse about Hezekiah who was one of the good kings of Israel from the long ago Bible Times. Maybe that doesn't seem so significant but it is, it really, really is. Do you know why? It's because his Dad, King Ahaz was a nasty old man, pardon me for saying so. He sure found a lot of ways to do evil but the one that makes me cringe the most is that he 'burned his children in the fire, after the abominations of the heathen,"  (2nd Chronicles 28 part of verse three.) It's a good thing he spared Hezekiah, but we'll get to that later.  Because Ahaz was a man of power and great influence, many people suffered and even died as a result of his sins.

By now you must be convinced that I have Alzheimer's or something and wandered completely off the topic but I haven't. I wanted to lay this background so you would get a better idea why the verse I am coming to is so remarkable. It's referring to Hezekiah after he replaced his father as king.

OK, sit up straight, and listen: 'For he clave (clung,) to the Lord and departed not from following Him, but kept His commandments, which the Lord commanded Moses.' (2nd Kings 18:6)

 That's the son of an evil man that we are talking about, but fortunately, he had a mother who loved the Lord, and so I am pretty sure both of them had learned how precious it is to pray, commune, fellowship, with the Lord God. That daily contact is vital. They were surrounded by evil, and maybe you are too, but get in touch with the Heavenly Father and cling to Him like Hezekiah did. Oh my, it is so worth it!

The Prayer of Healing

Can eight weeks of suffering disappear in one night? Nay, make that eight years, or even two-thirds of a lifetime.

Physically I was never like 'other girls' I was weaker, frailer, and had less stamina. This showed up even as a child, but it wasn't until I was in my twenties, I believe, before the dizzy spells really kicked in. I'm telling you our family doctor tried, he really tried to find the solution for many years but nothing helped.

But the years sped on with migraines, sinus headaches, and the nausea and vertigo that increased intolerably under the slightest stress.

Was I miserable? Yes: and no. God was there. And anywhere with God is a haven of comfort.

My husband had seen me suffering all these years and it became so severe that social settings were becoming intolerable. He got the idea to ask one of the pastor's in our local congregation if they could have a healing prayer for me.  They were open to the idea.

Saturday evening, April 23 has become a holy day in my heart and memories. We are a large congregation so there are two ministers (pastors) and two deacons. We met for a time of Bible reading, fellowship and praying. It was a time of sweet communion as we shared our hearts, confessing our faults one to another. Although the discomfort in my head was so bad at this time, I was willing to go through with it, to see what God could or would do.

We knelt beside our chairs with my dear friend; one of the pastor's wife's, supporting me while her husband anointed my head with oil, and prayed.

Immediately I felt a burning, but not uncomfortable feeling in the center of my forehead which lasted for about a half an hour. Was the dizziness gone? Yes. Was I able to do things what 'normal' people do after that? Absolutely.

I felt like I was treading on Holy Ground, and today which is Tuesday, the wonder, the hallowed feeling is still with me. He Touched Me. The loving Heavenly Father deemed me worthy of a gentle touch of healing and I feel like tiptoeing in His Presence, He was/ is so close.

Destroy the Enemy!

Do you know there are victims of sex crimes right under our noses practically that we don’t even know of? Do you know how evil Sex Communes are? Have you ever spoken to a victim who endured unspeakable torture in one of these horrendous strongholds of Satan? Christians Awake! These powerhouses MUST be destroyed! The evil “Daddy’s” must be routed out and brought to justice. These girls need to be cared for in loving, Christian foster homes and receive the emotional and physical care most of them have never experienced before!

I am not talking theoretically. I know some of these victims and have come to love them dearly.

Please, do me; do them, a huge favor. Pray for them: fast, also, if you feel the desire to. Sign this petition to say you will join in prayer; its high time Satan’s demons are confounded!

Continuation of My Life's Story

Okay, as I'm sure most of you have gathered by now, I did eventually join the Holdeman, Mennonite church. Since we are trained to to keep away from cliches like 'wasn't smooth sailing, or a 'bed of roses',  hang on for a sec while I  try to come up with something more original.

There were a few things that were making life difficult at this time. As if being a teenager wasn't problem enough, I was also suddenly thrust into a single parent home in a straight environment compared to the casual one of childhood, or the tumultuous one my father had recently adopted. I wasn't one of those laid-back whatever will-be-will be type of gals either. My sensitive nature caused intense mood swings; yup I know what depression was all about.

And Satan wanted me.

Late one night while laying wide awake on my bed an oppressive presence overpowered me, I mean literally and I felt my hands being clamped against the mattress and this leering face inches from mine. I don't know how many minutes this lasted, but it was plenty long. I remembered trying to pray but it seemed ineffectual.

The Word of God speaks of having 'power on her head because of the angels.' (1. Corinthians 11) Whether this scripture meant that the angels would be able to give me more protection if I had my head covered, or that the fallen angels had more power against me without this symbolic protection, I couldn't say, but it left me feeling defenceless against the attacks of the Evil One.

Eventually with a sadistic laugh and a few contemptuous words the presence faded yet leaving me feeling shaken for days to come. I have never had a casual take-it-or-leave-it attitude about wearing a prayer covering since.

One Wrong Decision

Dear Diary, Cara stared at the words with growing frustration, then anger. Why do I have to resort to pouring out my feelings out on a mere scrap of paper? Isn’t there anyone, anyone at all who cares and understands? She clutched at her hair. I sure blew it way back when I was a kid, but I didn’t know any better, did I? Or did I? She leaped up and paced back and forth in front of the darkened window of the cheap apartment building.

Dear Diary, She sat down and stared at the words once again, then picked up her pen. Memories came flooding back. From her viewpoint the most precious recollection of them all seemed to be enshrined in gold. I was so happy that summer when I was nine. Les and Bonny cared for me like a daughter. I know they cared even though I stressed them out many a time with my wild ways. But I blew it. I blew it! I chose not to stay, and every home since then has been worse in one way or another. I never knew it would be such a rocky road if I took my own way, but how can I ever get back to that peace and serenity I knew as a kid on the farm?

She pressed her fingers against her lips to keep them from trembling, but the tears pooling in her eyes couldn’t be so easily stooped. I even stooped to asking Les’ if they would take me in; let me find a job in their community, but no, of course not. It was too late. They had their own children to think about. They didn’t say so, but I knew they thought I might be a bad influence on them. And it’s true. I might.

She viciously tore the tear stained paper out of the notebook, ripped it in half, crumbled it, and tossed it on the floor. I’m not the same girl I was then. In some ways I am even worse. And, yeah, their children would be curious to know what I have gone through, and in a weak moment, I would tell them…and relish it.

Oh God what do I do about this longing in my breast, so dull and yet so real? I want a different life. I want to find that light at the end of the tunnel but there are so many boulders in the way. How will I ever find it? She lay her head down on the desk and wept.

Come unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew11:28

If this sounds like you, remember there is HOPE. Reach out to God and He will reach out to you. 

When Saying Sorry isn't the Answer

Thank you Google plus for the lovely image.

 Aylett had been clinging to the feet of the King every blessed minute since returning to the Glass Castle. How he had patience with her, I now not, but she said ‘sorry’ countless times without feeling the desired peace and joy she had known formerly.

                One day Iris beckoned to her.

                “Come with me, you have been holed up in the castle too long and your face has grown wan and sad.”

                Aylett gazed anxiously at the King and communicated silently with Him. Is this the voice of the tempter?

                Go and my Presence will be with thee. Aylett could hardly believe her ears. She looked at Iris but could tell she hadn’t heard the secret message. She looked worriedly at the King but He seemed to be smiling in approval, so hesitantly followed her friend into the bright, clean out of doors.

                The guard spoke jovially to them as he lowered the sky tram and wished them a good day.

 Aylett bit her lip and wondered why he didn’t caution them against straying from the Path of Righteousness.

                After they  had walked awhile, Iris remarked that the road was much smoother than the last time they had gone for a jaunt.

                “Oh, I,I  hadn’t even noticed,” Aylett stammered, “I was too busy looking for snakes.”

                “Oh don’t worry about the snakes,” Iris linked her arm into Aylett’s. “We sounded the alarm loud and clear with our shrieking last time and the workmen have been busy upgrading the road ever since. The chance of even seeing a snake is one in a million."

                “And it would be me that would trip on it,” Aylett  sighed woefully.

                Iris turned to face her friend squarely. “What ails you, my friend,” she asked? “You haven’t been yourself lately.”

                Aylett hung her head, and scuffed her toe against the rocks.

                Iris lightly touched her shoulder. “C'mon, you can tell me.”

                When Aylett’s  tears started to flow  Iris brushed them away with hr hanky then handed it to her petite companion.

                “Is it because we went to the Enchanted Forest?”

                Aylett nodded, “I feel so bad…”

                “Aylett, do you know that isn’t really the Enchanted Forest? This whole area belongs to the King of Love. The guard told me that one day."

                Aylett’s eyes widened with an amazed ‘are you kidding me’ look. “Then why did we get lost? Why did the insects pester us so?”

                “Because we went on our own, we didn’t follow our guide; because we lingered too long.”

                Aylett took a deep breath. “Are you wishing to go again?”

                “Only if you want to. I think you should try to get over your fears.”

                “It takes a lot of faith to, to step over that stile and enter that site once again. I don’t know if I am brave enough.”

                “Here we are. Doesn’t it look beautiful in the light of the rising sun?”

                Aylett nodded uncertainly.

                “Let’s use our charming whistles and ask for a guide.”

                They both did so but Iris privately thought that Aylett blew harder and longer than was strictly necessary on the delicate instrument.

                Almost immediately Aylett saw a glimpse of shining wings that reassured her and seemed to be showing them what path to take. Iris didn’t receive any physical assurance of His Presence but neither did she need it.

                As the day grew warmer, Iris was pleased to notice that Aylett was cautiously at first, but then more freely shedding her fears.

Because they were attentive to their guide they had lots of fun, made some new friends who were pleasant and cheerful, and all around had a good time.

                When the Guide beckoned them to come back to the Castle because it was growing late, it was Aylett of all people who wasn’t quite ready.

                “We don’t want to get lost like last time,” Iris said half-jokingly.

                “Oh, no, no,” Aylett exclaimed and skipped over to join her chum.

                The path through the darkening forest was beautiful and inviting, and Aylett felt safe following the now visibly glowing presence of their guide.

                “Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go,” They sang and faintly in the distance could hear the other girls join in,

                Anywhere, anywhere, fear I cannot know, Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go.”

Notes:

How do you like this addition to the story? Were you disappointed with how part one ended? If so why or why not? Does this seem like a realistic example of what Christian life could or should be like?

 http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.de/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.es/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.fr/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.it/dp/1511783966

https://www.createspace.com/4837922

My Appointment With the King

I serve such a wonderful king. Every morning about five thirty, I get to have an appointment with Him. The thing is I know He has millions of other subjects and billions of other concerns to attend to, but when my soft musical alarm chimes, I feel such a drawing to the throne room of Adonai.

How can it be that He makes me feel so special? How can it be that He can make me feel like I am the only one in the universe and that He loves me so much? I know every single one of you can and hopefully do feel the same way. Regardless of what time of day you send a prayer dart His way He is sure to catch it,

Make an appointment early in the morning. Don’t worry, it won’t interrupt my time. There is something about the dawning of a new day which is so…perfect for meeting with our beloved Saviour and Guide because there aren’t so many distractions, yet.

Here’s my formula, but maybe something else will be more satisfying for you.

I head to the recliner in the living room, put my feet up, and let the warmth of His presence flow over me. He feels so real, so kind and it’s a great time to thank Him for always being there. We travelled part way across Canada this summer, but He was there ever km (mile) of the way. We went to Africa last summer and lo He was still so close. How can I feel fear of anything for very long with the blessed assurance of His comforting presence?

After praising Him for a few minutes it’s time to look up a topic in our chain reference Bible or continue on a topic I had been studying other mornings. I find a verse, and invariably the surrounding verses catch my attention also. Soon I haul out the good old Matthew Henry’s commentary and more wonderful jewels are uncovered for the day.

Of course during this devotional time there is plenty of opportunity during meditation to share with the Father whatever burdens or decisions might be weighing on my mind.

I know Adonai is never in a rush, but unfortunately I have to have a different time schedule. Writing this is encroaching on my ‘sweet hour of prayer’. I want to quickly send this off so I can worship at the feet of our holy Adonai. Meet me there!

New School Prayer

I found this in my e mail this morning. I wish the real author could stand up and give a little wave. A lot of us us would applaud.

Take Down That Wall

Sometimes we encounter relationships that are challenging at the best of times. The world would say walk away from them but that is not God’s solution. Those people whom we find difficult may very well think the problem lies with us. We must do our level best to show compassion and try to work through our differences. If we preserve in prayer God can help us take that wall down one brick at a time. Marilyn Friesen

Marilyn Friesen

An Imaginary Visit With Jesus

Today I want to share a poem with you that I wrote many years ago. Hopefully it will be an encouragement to young mothers all around the earth.

Sometimes I get to sighing

And wish that I could see

The Savior come a-knocking

To spend the day with me.

Get Me There On Time

George Mueller had an appointment on Friday at one o'clock, in Montreal. Problem was he was still stuck at sea, and he had been for days. The ship was locked in heavy fog and the captain wouldn't dream of trying to venture closer to land under the circumstances. He hadn't reckoned with George Mueller who claimed he had never been late for an appointment and didn't intend to start now. Well the captain tried to reason with him, all the while wondering what kind of insane person he had on board.

God Knows MY Size

How many years is it since Darwin presented the evolution theory to the world?  It must be well over one hundred by now, am I right? So how many students in that time have been taught that humans evolved from monkeys, or even lesser beings? It would take a more mathematical mind than mine to even make a rough guess. Anyone want to chance it? 

The point I’m getting at, is, if evolution has a solid base of truth and there wasn’t so many gaps in the theory, wouldn’t we all be convinced by now that everything just happened?  Why are there so many, even those that proclaim themselves as atheists, plagued with doubts from time to time?

Back in Russia where teaching about God were mocked and scorned and stomped on possibly more viciously than almost anywhere else there was a young student who also had questions about the existence of God. Sure, her parents and a few others were ‘devout believers’ but she was feeling unsure so started to talk to the ‘God’ her parents seemed so well acquainted with.

She didn’t make it easy for this ‘God’ to convince her that He was real either. They were living in a two room shelter at the time, and ‘they’ included eleven others in her family. That shouts poverty, right? Well, winter was coming on, and she wanted a new coat and a sweater. Could God provide that for her; her, just one little girl among the millions of other poor children throughout the world?  From a girlish viewpoint there was something else that she wanted almost as much if not more than that comfortable winter clothing. She wanted shoes, feminine shoes. It was no fun at all clomping off to school in her brother’s boots that she had to stuff with newspaper to keep from falling off.

Well, she prayed, and prayed, but no answer seemed to be forthcoming. I guess she must have started finding comfort in her nightly chats with God because she kept on for several weeks.

Then one day Daddy came home from work carrying a big package. You can be sure all those children were excited and curious to know what it was, and their parents couldn’t even guess.

Sit back and picture that girl’s thrill of awe when first one, then two, then three items were pulled out of the box and they were just what she had asked for. There was a beautiful burgundy coat, a gray sweater, and brown shoes with little heels and a design stamped on the tops. Were they new? Yes.  Did they fit her perfectly? Absolutely.

“I hadn’t even remembered to tell Him my size,” she whispered with tears in her voice.