What Color Is Jesus?

“He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.”                                                                                                                                                                                                            Isaiah 53:2

On my kitchen windowsill is a Christmas card I received a couple of years ago. It is a simple but colorful drawing of the Christ Child in the manger, with several shepherds kneeling in adoration. All the people in the picture are jet black.

Am I offended by the lack of historical accuracy? Not at all. Nor have I written back to the sender, saying “By the way, Jesus was Jewish, and the shepherds were Jewish, and that picture makes no sense.”

Nope. I love that card, because of who sent it and where it came from. The greeting inside is a hand-written note from one of my friends in Uganda – “To my favorite author.” Elsewhere in the note is written in big letters, “UGANDA LOVES YOU!”

Lately there has been some heated discussions regarding the question of “what color was Jesus?” This question was the basis for accusing whole cultures of racism, western European types in particular. It seems that some European paintings of Jesus show Him looking, well, like a European.

But then, why not?  I would expect pictures of Him in, say, a Mexican church to look more Hispanic. In Asia you can find pictures of Jesus looking Chinese or Indian.

There’s a reason for this, and I’m guessing those reasons were more theological than historical.

These artists were probably aware of where Jesus lived and died, and yet they decided to paint Him in a way that made Him more relatable to the people of their own culture. These artists weren’t ignorant. On the contrary, I would respectfully suggest that their critics are the ones who might be missing the point.

And what is the point? What is the message of the Incarnation?

The point is, the Son of God – God Himself – left His home in heaven to become one of us (“us” being Humanity).

As a Man, Jesus went through the same experiences we go through. He was hungry. He got thirsty. He experienced weariness and pain and loneliness. He knew fear and stress and the sting of other people’s hatred. He empathized, He grieved, He knew anger and frustration. These are things experienced by every person that ever lived, every color, in every era, and in every corner of the earth. He came for all of us – for black and white, Hispanic and Asian, Middle Eastern and Native American. And for every race, every nationality, every ethnic group, He took our sins upon Himself and took them to the Cross, where He died for the forgiveness of all of us.

One of my favorite outreaches, the Jesus Film Project has been showing the gospel in video form for decades. Their movie, “JESUS,” the dramatization of the gospel according to Luke, has been translated into more than 1800 languages! Until the pandemic shut down the world, small teams of technicians and evangelists would trek into the remotest places, set up their equipment, and show the film to whole villages at a time. The people would gather to watch and be mesmerized to see the gospel story played out in their language! Now of course when Jesus was on earth He didn’t speak in the tribal languages of these obscure groups, but that doesn’t matter to them. They watch, they listen, they understand – and they believe! 

SIDE NOTE: If you are a linguistics expert and want to get nitpicky about the language Jesus really spoke, you might want to rent “The Passion of the Christ,” where the dialogue is in the original Aramaic. (You might also want to make sure the subtitles are turned on.)

The Apostle John’s description of Heaven in Revelation describes a multitude of people that could not be counted, people “from every nation, tribe, people, and language.” (Revelation 7:9) I’m guessing none of those people got hung up what Jesus looked like when He walked the earth as one of us. Who knows? When we enter into eternity, He may show Himself to us in a glorious new color we have never seen before in this life! (Yes, my imagination can go wild when I think of entering eternity after leaving this finite world.)

The Incarnation is a profound reality, one well worth reflecting on.  John 1:14 says,     “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” In these days of arguing about anything and everything, let’s focus less on the flesh and more on the Word.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for leaving the throne room of Heaven to live in this fallen world as one of us. Thank You for offering Your life for all of us as the perfect sacrifice. You paid the debt we could not afford, so our sins might be cancelled out and we might live with You forever. And now, as we place our faith in You, we can look forward to eternal life in Your glorious kingdom, along with Your children from every nation, tribe, people and tongue! What a glorious day that will be!  Lord, help us to focus less on the superficial and more on what’s truly important – how much You love us, how much we love You, and how much we should love one another in Your name. Amen.


To Seniors and Others Missing Out

Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.         Colossians 3:2

This piece, originally entitled “What Else Matters?” was posted May 3 of last year. I wanted to share it again, for all my readers who are or have seniors missing their prom, graduation, and other festivities they thought they would be enjoying now. Feel free to share this with them. I hope it encourages those who are feeling the loss.

It was the morning of the National Day of Prayer. I was sitting in the auditorium at City Hall, listening to my daughter’s school choir singing a goosebump-raising rendition of “You Are God Alone.” They were warming up for the city-wide prayer meeting that was starting in half an hour. And I was crying.

My daughter Kelly had been having a rough time in high school. The migraines that had first appeared when she was four years old had continued to plague her through grade school and middle school and had caused her record absences through high school, in spite of years of prayers and attempts to find a solution through medicine, both traditional and “alternative.”

But in spite of enduring more pain than some people suffer in a lifetime, Kelly had found a few sources of pleasure in her life. By far her greatest joy was singing, and her favorite part of school was choir. When the students performed, Kelly’s face radiated with unmistakable joy. She had looked forward to the national Day of Prayer and taking part, and as I had said goodbye to her that morning and she left for school, I had whispered a special prayer of thanks to God for this special day.

My optimism had been short-lived, however. Kelly had called me from the parking lot of a McDonald’s half a mile from school to tell me about the migraine that had assaulted her shortly after she had walked out the door. When I had suggested that she come home, take some medication, and rest until the assembly, she had sobbed that if she didn’t show up at 8:00 she wouldn’t be allowed to sing with the choir.

There are definite advantages to a small Christian school, one of them being teachers who know each student well and practice grace along with discipline. As I called the office to explain Kelly’s dilemma, the choir director, who “happened to be” right by the phone, responded with compassion. She said to let Kelly come home, take a pill and a nap, and meet the choir at City Hall at 11:30 if she was feeling better.

But the medication that knocked out the migraine had a way of knocking out the patient as well, and when I had tried to rouse Kelly for the prayer meeting, she had been hopelessly (and predictably) dead to the world. Now as the choir finished their warm-up and filed off the stage, there I sat, with nothing to do but feel sorry for Kelly, thinking of all the important high school events she had missed and would never again get a chance to do. And yes, I’ll admit I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, as well. (When “BabyBear” hurts, “MamaBear” hurts, too.) So in spite of my efforts to contain them, the tears flowed.

I was digging through my purse, looking for a tissue when I came across my small New Testament. Since the prayer meeting didn’t start until noon, I knew I had twenty minutes to kill, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend them wallowing in self-pity. So I pulled out the Bible and prayed.

Lord, Jesus, please encourage me. I don’t want to feel this way today!

I was not in the habit of looking for answers to problems by haphazardly opening the Bible; I hadn’t done that since college. But since I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, I opened the Book at random, planning just to read until I found something helpful, or until the prayer meeting started, whichever came first.

The scripture that first caught my eye was the last chapter of Mark:

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb, and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?”

But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen!”                    (Mark 16: 1-6)

Something told me I had seen enough, so I stopped reading.

OK, what does that have to do with Kelly’s migraines? I wondered. But then I pondered the significance of the passage.

Jesus is alive … JESUS IS ALIVE! That means that death is not the end … for Him or for us! And it certainly means this life isn’t the be-all and end-all for those who trust in the Lord. – It’s barely the beginning!

Yes, my daughter had missed the National Day of Prayer, over a hundred days of high school, and numerous weekend festivities. She had missed Homecoming, but someday she would be at the greatest Homecoming in history. She had missed singing in the choir that day, but someday she would sing in heaven’s choir forever. Kelly loved Jesus, and she would get to spend forever with Him, at the never-ending, greatest celebration of all time. When one had that to look forward to … what else mattered?

What else matters? I asked myself, and I found that in spite of my pity-party, I was smiling. I decided that I would pour myself into the Day of Prayer and keep a better perspective on life from that day on, by remembering the one thing that really matters –

Jesus is alive!

Excerpted from BARRIERS (So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?)                           c 2015 Ann Aschauer

Prayer: Lord, we rejoice that You are alive! Keep us mindful of what really matters. In Your name, amen


On Being Transparent

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags.     Isaiah 64:6a

I don’t do windows.

Well, every few years I try. There will be that bright sunny morning when the light was streaming in, and the need for cleaning was so obvious, I grab the window cleaner, spray bottle, rags, paper towels, and squeegee and get to work. Two or three hours later I throw in the towel (and everything on it) and once more promise myself, never again!

Every summer we go to the house in Michigan that my grandparents built it in the 1940s. It was elegant then and it is still elegant now. Forty-six years ago my husband Marty and I got married there, and two years ago our youngest daughter married the love of her life there. The house has French provincial architecture, fireplaces, a bay window, and French doors that open onto a patio overlooking the lake.

It also has windows that have had a curse put on them. Or maybe it’s just the paint on the frames that dissolves every time any liquid touches it… Each magical little pane is specially made to get dirtier the more it’s wiped. After several attempts at cleaning, the glass will go from mildly dirty to ridiculously streaked on the outside – when you’re looking out. Of course, when you’re outside looking in, all you see are the streaks that are inside. I have on occasion treated the job like an Olympic event, “the Window Sprint” – Can I run outside and get that streak off before I forget where it is? Pretty soon I’m streaked too, with sweat and dirt, and breathless with exasperation. No gold medal here.

(Now please don’t write and tell me how you clean your windows. Believe me, I’ve heard the advice, all about vinegar and newspapers and yada-yadda-yadda… I’ve tried it all.)

A few years ago we put our house in Port Huron up for sale, and one of the many jobs that needed to be done was … clean the windows. [Insert scary horror movie music here.] When a perfectly gorgeous day came up and I had absolutely nothing on my schedule, there was no excuse to put off the job, however desperately I wished for one.

I was delightfully surprised to find the job was not only effective but surprisingly fun when it actually worked! I found myself singing as I got into the rhythm -squirt-squeegee-wipe, squirt-squeegee-wipe – and pretty soon I was looking around for more windows to clean. At the end of the day I was standing in the living room, gazing out at the Lake Huron, relishing the fact that the windows were virtually invisible and I may as well have been standing outside. >Eureka!<

For some reason I took this to mean I now knew how to clean windows, so when we later went to Portage Lake, one bright, sunny day I confidently grabbed my trusty squeegee and began to make the dining room gorgeous, one little pane at a time, forgetting that these windows were cursed… Two hours, one roll of paper towels, one bottle of Windex, and one tantrum later, there was not one pane that was totally clean. I threw up my hands and yelled “I GIVE UP!” followed by a few other things that were probably inappropriate for a Christian to be saying.

Have you been there? I don’t mean just with windows, but anything that you’ve tried to “fix,” that only gets worse the more you try? As I stood there that day, hot and exhausted, scowling at the streaks blocking the view of the beautiful lake, I figured the only way to get a clear view would be just to break the windows. That’s it! Just take out the pains – er, panes – completely, and the view would be great. Of course, that would have made the house a bit drafty and buggy, so Marty didn’t go for that idea.

It occurred to me that I was looking at a picture of sin. The Bible tells us that ever since Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden, all of Mankind has been under the curse of sin. For many people, their lives may seem “good enough.” But then the light of God’s truth shines through, and it becomes painfully obvious that we “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” (Romans 6:23) The more we look at our sin, the more it bothers us.

So, what do some of us do? We try to clean up our act. Somehow we think we can make it right on our own, although it should soon be apparent that if we were so capable of doing good, our lives wouldn’t be such a mess in the first place. After trying to make things right, we see that we have failed, and more often than not, our feeble attempts have made the situation worse than ever. At this point we should see that we can’t do this ourselves. But some of us refuse to believe we’re that helpless. So we try harder, thinking if we could just try hard enough, we’ll finally clean up our lives.

The bottom line is, we can’t fix the mess ourselves. We have only two choices. We can avoid the Light and hope nobody notices the dirt, or we can go to God and ask Him to help us. Fortunately, He can. In fact, He sent His Son, Jesus, to take all our dirt onto Himself. When He died for us, He was taking our sin and nailing it to the Cross, and we never have to be enslaved by it again. He can make our lives clean, and He can shine His light through us. Isn’t it a relief to know we don’t have to try to clean ourselves up?

I haven’t yet figured out how to get Jesus to do my windows for me, but two years ago before our daughter Kelly married the love of her life on the lawn at that house, we did hire a professional exorcist – er, window cleaning service. Now when I look out through the crystal clear glass and remember how it used to be, I know what a mess I would be without Jesus. I’m just grateful that I’m not without Him, and that He was willing to do what was necessary to make me clean, so He could shine His light through me.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, in ourselves we are powerless to clean up our own lives. Thank You that You have not left us on our own, but You have shed Your blood to cleanse us from all unrighteousness, that we can live the lives You want us to live – the lives we truly want. We choose to trust You to shine through us today, in Your power, in Your name. Amen

Visiting My Mothers in Heaven

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

“Yes, Lord,” she told him, “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world.” John 11: 25-27

The dream came shortly after my mother’s death, and about eight years after my mother-in-law’s. It was one of those dreams that caused me to wake up smiling.

I’m not sure how I got there, but in my dream I was with my mother and my mother-in-law in a place that seemed neither inside nor outside. If it was inside, the place was huge. If it was outside, it was inexplicably cozy.

The floor or ground was covered with flowers – flowers we were making together. Although my school never had a homecoming parade, I imagined it was a little like gathering in the gym with classmates to make paper flowers for a float. But these flowers weren’t paper. They were real, soft, colorful, fragrant flowers!

As we made one beautiful blossom after another, we indulged in “girl talk,” reminiscing about the highlights of our lives, joking, telling stories, laughing, even singing. As the piles of flowers grew higher, the fellowship grew sweeter and sweeter.

At one point I realized somehow that my visit with them was coming to an end. I reluctantly told them it was time for me to go, and they seemed to understand.

“This has been so wonderful!” I exclaimed, unable to fully express what our time together had meant to me. “And such a delightful surprise,” I added, still not quite realizing this was a dream. In my confusion, I stammered, “I-I thought you two were dead!”

Those dear women looked at each other for a moment, and simultaneously burst out laughing. They giggled as though this were the funniest joke they had ever heard.

When finally they began to catch their breath, my mother shook her head and said to me in that sweet, reassuring voice I had grown up depending on, “Oh honey, of course we’re not dead!” I can still picture their affectionate smiles as they said good-bye – or rather, “We’ll see you soon.”

For some people Mother’s Day is a sad reminder of someone dear who has departed this life. But if that mother knew Jesus as her Lord and Savior, it doesn’t have to be a sad day. After all, Jesus died on the cross to pay the penalty for the sin that separates us from our Creator.

And since Jesus didn’t stay dead but rose from the grave – conquering death once and for all – we know that death is not the end! Those who accept Jesus’s atoning sacrifice as a free gift are washed clean of their sin, and those who believe in His resurrection will be raised as He was raised! We will be together again – not sitting around on clouds playing harps (unless playing a harp is something you enjoy doing – I do.) – but in some way being an active part in His kingdom. Maybe we’ll be making flowers, or sculpting mountains, or composing worship music that surpasses anything we have yet heard on earth. I can envision my creative husband helping build the most beautiful mansions in preparation for souls yet to arrive.

On Mother’s Day, when memories of my mother come to mind, there is a certain bitter-sweetness to them. But it’s more sweet than bitter. I know she’s safely with her Savior, as well as all the other loved ones who have gone to be with Him – what a glorious fellowship we have to look forward to!

Meanwhile, I can still talk to Jesus every day, right where I am, and I can pray,

“Lord, tell Mom I love her, and I’ll see her soon.”

Prayer: Heavenly Father, we thank You for mothers. For some of us they have been channels of Your love, for others, examples of the fallenness of the human race. Some of us struggle to forgive our mothers, while some of us miss our mothers terribly. Some of us feel conflicting emotions of love and resentment, because our mothers are doing their best but are as flawed and imperfect as we are. Lord, the qualities we look for and appreciate in good mothers – tender love, nurturing, comfort, loving discipline, patience, humor, loyalty, forgiveness, encouragement, help, self-sacrifice – all are found in You, the Author and Finisher of our faith. For those of us who have mothers in our lives, for those of us who are mothers ourselves, give us these attributes, and help us to be the people You created us to be, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

God’s Split-second Timing

For he will command his angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways. – Psalm 91:11

“Anyone with kids has to believe in guardian angels, because statistically it’s impossible to grow up.” – my father

I didn’t want to interrupt their day. Thank God I did.

While my daughter Joanna’s family lives only a mile from us, the other grandparents live in another state. So, when “Marni and Papa” are in town for a visit, my husband and I usually do our own thing and let them have the grandkids to themselves.

Caroline, with her sassy sense of humor, made it abundantly clear that the focus was on the visitors Tuesday when I was dropping her off along with her sister Charlotte. We had been enjoying a frozen yogurt treat and some animated conversation, but when the girls spotted the familiar car in the driveway, the pitch got even higher as both shrieked with delight, “Marni and Papa!” As they got out of the car, Charlotte said “Thank you, Nana, I love you,” and Caroline, who had barely finished her frozen yogurt, yelled, “‘Bye, Nana! You’re yesterday’s news.” (I guess it was a little rude, and I probably shouldn’t encourage her, but if I had tried not to laugh, I could have hurt myself.)

In spite of the visit from the other grandparents, Friday I “borrowed” Charlotte for a little while. My younger granddaughter gets allergy shots two or three times a week, and because that’s something she and I have in common, I am the one who takes her. On days when I get my shots we get them together. It’s one less thing my daughter has to do, and it has proven to be a very special time for Charlotte and me. The conversations in the car, more often than not, have been those “teachable moments” we’re always hearing about. Of my five grandchildren, Charlotte has always been the one who is most curious about the things of God, and from the time she could barely talk I have frequently marveled at the depth of her questions.

So Friday morning I shot a text to Joanna: “Good morning! Yesterday’s News here. Do you want me to take Charlotte for her shots today? If so, what time?” After assuring me that I wasn’t yesterday’s news to her – (heart emoji) – Joanna said whatever time I wanted, they were just kind of “hanging out,” doing miscellaneous things.

Little did I know that the “random” time I picked was spot on in God’s plan.

(Or was it foiling the enemy’s plan?)

It was a beautiful day, and as I turned the corner next to Joanna’s house, I saw Charlotte standing in the yard, ready to be picked up. Her little brother Jackson was sitting at the edge of the street writing on the pavement with a big blue, piece of chalk, right behind his mother’s minivan. I wondered why the little guy had chosen that odd spot for his artwork.

Suddenly I saw the minivan moving – Joanna was backing out of the driveway!

Realizing she couldn’t see him in any of her mirrors, I hit the horn loud and hard.

Jackson jumped, saw the van, moved over, and kept right on writing. Joanna stopped, giving me an inquisitive look. I parked and ran over as she rolled down the window to see what the emergency was.

“I didn’t know if you knew Jackson was sitting behind your car…” I panted.

From the expression on her face, she clearly had not.

Somehow we both survived the incident without a heart attack, and between Joanna, Charlotte, and me, we persuaded (scolded) Jackson to draw elsewhere and stay out of the street. Annoyed that he had to start over, he clearly didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He threw the chalk onto the ground and stomped into the house.

As Charlotte and I pulled away and headed for the allergist, I said to her, “Well, Charlotte, if you ever wonder why God allowed you to have allergies and have to get shots, if nothing else, here’s a reason: to save your brother’s life!

I walked her through the “what-ifs”: that if it weren’t for having to take her for her shots, I would not have come over and interrupted their day. It also dawned on me that, had I arrived five seconds later – or if I had picked up Charlotte five minutes earlier – there could have been a tragedy from which none of us would have ever recovered.

Every day I ask God to take care of our family, and at times like this I can clearly see His hand in our lives.

But I truly believe that there are countless other times He has had His angels around us when we aren’t even aware of the dangers or thinking about Him, and He “delivers us from evil” more times than we know.

I realize that there are many godly families that have experienced tragedy, and I wouldn’t attempt to explain why. I expect those times will come for us in some form, someday – no one’s life is without its hardships and grief. But that’s exactly why I want to take nothing for granted today. If we’ll focus on and and be thankful for the thousands of times the Lord has been merciful and gracious to us, I believe the memories of those times will give us strength and faith to trust Him when we don’t understand what He’s doing or allowing.

He’s in control, and He knows best.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for every moment of our lives. I believe You have a plan for each of us, and as we put our trust in You, we will not leave this world one moment before Your plan for us is completed. Give us divine perspective, to recognize Your hand in our lives, that we would continually give You the thanks and praise You deserve, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

My Fellow Bloggers, You Have Been Un-spammed.

My first hint that something was off came a while back when some of the comments I received included things like, “Welcome back! I’ve missed your posts.”

The fact was, I had been consistently posting every Friday …

Hmmm …

I also began to notice I had fewer notifications of new posts from many of the blogs I follow. For a long time I figured that as society had been “opening up” and people were less stuck at home, y’all must be getting out more and blogging less. (Not sure why I thought that. I certainly hadn’t been writing less.)

Last night I checked my “spam” folder, and WOW… Looked like y’all were having a party that I wasn’t invited to! I’m not sure how you got there, but I just spent the past hour going through weeks of spam and marking as “NOT spam” the bloggers I have been missing.

So, it’s my turn to say, “WELCOME BACK!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have 282 emails to attend to…




P.S. A big “THANK YOU!” to those of you who have been loyally reading my posts in spite of my not reading yours lately. And if I ever seem to be making myself scarce, check your spam. Those folders seem to be like ditches we fall into every now and then, except with a real ditch, we’d know it.

Amazing What God Can Do with a Couple of Innocent Sneezes…

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world, and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Ephesians 6:12

People who are unfamiliar with the power of prayer might think of it as a dull, monotonous activity. I know I did at one time. But lately I have seen answers to my daily prayers that have added more excitement to my life than I ever expected to see at my age. The following is an email I received from a dear friend who is a pastor in another country. I had received word that he had been hospitalized with Covid and had asked every prayer warrior I knew to intercede with me for him.

As it turned out, he didn’t have Covid at all, but something much more interesting had been happening. Here is the story, in his words:

“Respected servant of God,

Greetings to you in His Holy name! Thank you so much for your love, care, and concerns and prayer supports. Thank you SO MUCH> Let me write in detail on how I got into the COVID Hospital. It is indeed interesting but God’s Plan.

On 23rd March 2021, I was returning from a mission field by local transportation after the baptism program, I twice had sneezing. I had a mask on my face and no fever, no cold nothing. I was talking and sharing the Gospel. When I sneezed twice, the three people that were seating in our front seat though their faces were towards the front side, created a problem. Since I was sharing the Gospel with my neighbor but they were listening to me very keenly. And I am sure, they too heard the Gospel. But I didn’t know that they belonged to [a fanatical group from another religion]. So, they started arguing with me saying: “The god Jesus you were talking about is a foreign god, you people are forcefully converting other faith people and making them Christian….etc”. But very politely I told them, “I am sharing the Gospel which is the real story that happened in the history of mankind. It is my duty to share the Gospel, but it is the hearer’s responsibility to accept the Gospel or reject the Gospel.” But in order to bring some allegation upon me, they slowly led the argument towards my sneezing. Finally, they put an allegation saying that you are a coronavirus patient. I said, I am not. But they tried their best to put me into trouble. Early morning, I arrived home, but without my knowledge someone was following me. And those three people informed the police that I am affected by the coronavirus. So, on 24th March 2021, around 3 PM, one man came and took me to the nearby hospital to have a covid test. Then I came back home. The hospital people told me to collect the report by 8PM. I was getting ready to go for the same, again the same people reached my home and said, you are tested covid positive and you have to go to the covid hospital. Without giving me a report, they simply said, I am tested covid positive and they forcefully took me to the hospital by an ambulance. I was in the hospital till 31st March 2021, but they didn’t give me a single medicine because I didn’t have any cough, cold or fever. I was discharged from the hospital on 31st March 2021 evening, but they again took me to an isolated place for quarantine. They asked me to be there for a week but they released me from there yesterday and again they have asked me to be at home quarantine for a week.

This is nothing but a game played by those three people who were seated in front of our seat. They wanted their best to do some harm for me but God protected me from their hand. It was their plan and game to put me into corona hospital. Moreover, since last year, I think I must have told you that, police department and medical department in [that country] play a politics with corona cases. They simply take people in the name of a corona positive case; they enter the patient’s name in the hospital register book, keep them for a few days and leave them. The more numbers, the more money they get from the government. And by doing this, they get more money illegally. But I thank God for this incident. Though those three people out of anger they put me into the covid hospital, God used me to share the Gospel with more than 150 people inside the hospital and more than 80 people I offered prayer in the Name of Jesus upon their request. Even, when I was in quarantine, I spent my time in prayer, particularly praying for those people whom I shared the Gospel and offered prayer. I strongly believe that God would bring them to the saving knowledge of Christ Jesus. Some of them have taken my mobile number and I have asked them to call me if they need to hear more about Jesus.

So, this is the story. The enemies of the Gospel are active in their work when we are active in sharing the Gospel.

[He goes on to (again) thank everyone who prayed for him and tell about the books he was reading in the hospital, including my book BARRIERS – which he read three more times ( ❤ ) and requested I send more copies. (!) – So, I get to be part of this incredible ministry!

Pretty boring, huh? 😉

Prayer: Lord, Your enemies are no match for You. You are the most powerful (You created the universe.), the wisest (You outwit all Your enemies.), and the most loving (You gave Your life to pay for our sins.) We are so blessed to have the God of the universe on our side! Thank You, Jesus! Amen

Do You Smell Right?

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other the fragrance of life.

II Corinthians 2:14-16

One Sunday I was greeting a friend at church when she grinned and said, “Pastor Tom hugged you this morning, didn’t he?”

“He did,” I confirmed. It wasn’t a wild guess. Not many people got through the door without getting a hug from Pastor Tom.

“I could smell his aftershave,” she chuckled. Apparently the hugging pastor had his own distinctive ambience, and all he came into contact with took a little of that ambience with them. That got me wondering, can people tell I’ve been with Jesus by the way I “smell”?

After Jesus was arrested, people recognized Peter as one of His disciples by his accent. (Matthew 26:73) In the book of Acts it was written that people who saw the courage of the disciples took note that they had been with Jesus. (Acts 4:13) And in the passage above, Paul wrote in his second letter to the Corinthians that God spreads through us the fragrance of the knowledge of His Son.

So, the question is, are we (Christians) doing that? When we’re in the room, can people “smell Jesus”? Have we spent enough time with Him that His essence permeates our lives? Have we been embraced by Him, enveloped in His fragrance, – saturated in it – so that wherever we go we are the aroma of life to those who are called of God?

Another question – and here’s where it gets hard – are we the stench of death to those who are perishing? Are we so good at representing Jesus that those who hate and reject Him also hate and reject us? – And if so, are we okay with that?

I think with all my early insecurities and fear of other people’s opinions, I had as an unspoken goal of having everyone like me. There were a few times I seemed to have succeeded. I have memories of summer camp in my middle school years, sharing a cabin with girls who were prone to be drama queens on occasion. I remember more than once hearing a young lady wail in despair, “Everybody hates me! … except Ann!” (I doubt it had anything to do with any virtue on my part, just an unwillingness to get in the middle of an adolescent cat-fight.)

But for the mature Christian, being liked by everyone and avoiding others’ disapproval is not the goal.

On the contrary, if everyone likes us, it’s a pretty sure sign we’re doing something wrong.

Jesus told His disciples ahead of time,

“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. Remember the words I spoke to you: ‘No servant is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also.” (John 15:18-20)

Apparently, not everyone is going to appreciate the fragrance we carry with us from belonging to Jesus. With all of the beautiful promises He has given us, there’s also the promise that we will be persecuted for His sake. Being rejected and hated could very well be a sign that we’re doing something right.

But persecution is not something we should go looking for! We’ve all met people who act like jerks and then, when others respond in kind, take it as a sign that they are righteous people being persecuted. Let’s not kid ourselves.

Peter wrote:

If you suffer, it should not be as a murderer or thief or any other kind of criminal, or even as a meddler. However, if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name. (I Peter 4:15, 16)

Although we can’t expect everyone to love us, or even like us, this does not excuse us from Jesus’ command to love everyone, even our enemies!

“But I tell you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44)

It isn’t up to us to decide who is going to be saved and who is going to reject Christ’s offer of salvation forever. God can do surprising things, and sometimes the last person you expect to surrender his life to Jesus is the one who is transformed seemingly overnight and taking the world by storm – if the Christians around him don’t blow it by acting un-Christlike.

So, I for one want to spend ample time each day, as early in the day as possible, in the presence of Jesus. I want to be able to come away from my prayer time filled with His light and saturated with His fragrance, so that as I go about my day, I can bring His presence with me, so that He can impact lives around me in any way He sees fit to do.

In other words, our job is to spend time in the Lord’s presence and walk in His Spirit. If we do this, wherever we go we will carry His aroma to those around us. Whether that’s the aroma of life or the stench of death is up to them.

Prayer: Lord, I delight in You; give me the desires of my heart – the desire for more of You: to see Your face, to hear Your voice, to feel Your embrace, and to have my heart beat in sync with Yours. I want to smell Your fragrance and be enveloped in it, saturated with it, so that wherever I go I will be the aroma of life to those You are calling – even if it means being the stench of death to those who are perishing. May I not be hated for being a despicable person, doing despicable things, or even as an obnoxious person. But if I am hated for being Yours and for being like You, I will wear that rejection as a badge of honor, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Balloons, Streamers, and Resurrection

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has risen from the dead’ … ” Matthew 28

[Jesus] said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.” Mark 16:15

As some of my readers know, I was involved in an outreach in Michigan called “Satan’s Worst Nightmare,” which occurred every Halloween. It took fifteen years for the outreach to grow into a multimedia production, complete with live music, drama (depicting the death, burial, resurrection and final victory of Jesus Christ – from Satan’s point of view), dance, special effects, sidewalk counseling, and free Bibles, food, hot cider, tracts, and candy. But it started as a simple yard display.

One October day I had been getting a little weary of the usual yard displays – cemeteries, corpses hanging from trees, the “Grim Reaper,” witches, zombies, giant spiders, etc. It seemed the world was celebrating death, darkness, and evil. My friend Kelly and I decided to decorate her yard with a different kind of display, one celebrating life, while keeping with the general style of the season. We filled her yard with tombstones, which didn’t seem that unique at first. But each one of our headstones had a verse from the Bible on it having to do with resurrection and eternal life.

It was meant to make people take a second look, and it worked. After the display was set up, Kelly would enjoy sitting in her living room, sipping her coffee and watching out the window as people walked by, stopped in their tracks, did a “double take,” and backed up to read the messages on the tombstones. As they read, she’d pray.

Since moving to Kentucky I have made some evangelistic tombstones of my own, and last Halloween they were spread out in front of our house – as much a anything could be spread out in our little yard. A black sign with jagged edges and creepy writing pointed to the mini-cemetery with the words “Satan’s Worst Nightmare.”

The night before Easter it occurred to me that the verses on the tombstones were just as appropriate for Resurrection Day, probably more. So I dragged them out, minus the “Satan’s Worst Nightmare” sign, and set them up in the yard.

When I backed up to inspect the display, it didn’t look right to me. The verses of Scripture were great, but from a distance the display as a whole looked like a graveyard, and anyone unable to read the Bible verses wouldn’t “get it.”

After a quick trip to the corner store, I blew up some colorful balloons and attached them to the tombstones. Various colors of curly ribbon dangled around the words of Scripture to emphasize the festive, joyous message they conveyed. It was midnight, but from what I could see, I was satisfied with the end product.

Resurrection Morning was sunny and beautiful, and as I was leaving for church, I spotted a neighbor I frequently saw out walking with his little granddaughter. As I greeted them, the little girl’s face lit up, and she went running toward the colorful balloons and ribbons. Grampa’s face broke into a grin as he pointed to the yard and exclaimed, “LOVE it!” I wished them a happy Resurrection Day and hopped in the car. As I drove away, I could see the tiny child still taking in the the view, as her grandfather stood looking at the headstones, I’m guessing reading the good news they were declaring.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, today we hear news that disappoints, distresses, frightens, angers, and saddens us. But You have given us the best news ever. -You have conquered it all! You died for us, to pay for our sins, and You are alive! You freely offer us the gift of salvation and ask only that we believe and share the good news with everyone. Let our writings, our voices, our faces, our actions – even our homes – communicate that good news daily. When people look at us, may they see You. In Your name we pray, Amen.

Easter Tears

Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” John 20:15

The college I went to many years ago did not have “Easter Break,” just “Spring Break.” During my freshman year I was on campus for Easter, or as I prefer to call it now, “Resurrection Day.”

It had been a rough spring. Having had one throat infection after another, I had lost my voice entirely, and one doctor had even suggested that I may have damaged my vocal cords permanently. I had been forced to drop out of choir and the other singing group I had been a part of, and my final scene for acting class was an embarrassing mime, at which I proved woefully inept. For me to be a theater major without a voice was bad enough; having to refrain from singing, the thing that gave me more joy than anything, was downright depressing. And of course, the physical pain on top of everything else threatened to send me spiraling down even further into despair.

I had discovered – or rediscovered – my Christian faith during that year, and if you had looked up “Jesus freak” in the dictionary, you would have seen a picture of me. I wanted to tell the “Good News” to everyone, but now could barely communicate with anyone. And so I often could be found shut up in my room alone, praying and trying to read my Bible without letting the tears splash onto the pages. I sometimes would have Simon and Garfunkel singing “Bridge Over Troubled Water” from my stereo to give me comfort, but that turned out to be merely the soundtrack of my pity party.

There was a special service in the chapel Easter weekend, and I attended, thinking I really should celebrate this holiest of all days. But as the choir filed in, I felt a lump in my already sore throat. When they began to sing “Christ the Lord Is Ris’n Today” and the congregation joined in, I felt so left out that all I could do was stand there and cry. I loved the Lord with all my 19-year-old heart, but here it was Easter, and all I could do was sit there and watch everyone else celebrate. It was SO UNFAIR!

I don’t know if I was consciously praying or just silently whining to myself, but the though passed through my head,

What could be worse than wanting to sing AT EASTER and not being able to!?

But the One who was with me heard my silent question and answered immediately. I could “hear” His still, small voice in my heart, saying gently,

What could be worse?? Being able to sing at Easter, but not wanting to.

The Voice was right. Whatever this life holds, I have Jesus. And having Him, I am far better off than anyone, in any circumstance, who doesn’t.

My prayer for all of my readers/followers/friends this Resurrection Day is that you will know Him and let Him lead you through life, whatever comes. If you aren’t sure, or if you know you need a relationship with the Lord, here are a couple of posts to get you started:



If you take Jesus’ words to heart, if you place your faith in Him, I’ll meet you later – “here, there, or in the air” – and we’ll sing His praises together.



Prayer: Lord Jesus, the worst of times with You are better than the best of times without You. Keep us aware of Your presence, sensitive to Your leading, and obedient to Your will, in Your name. Amen.

“It’s Friday. But Sunday’s Coming!”

“Truly, truly, I say to you, that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will grieve, but your grief will be turned into joy.”                                                                                                                                                                     John 16:20


If the title of this post looks familiar to you, it’s because S. M. Lockridge (1913-2000), a prominent African-American preacher, preached a sermon by that name that has moved people, stirred their passion, and given them hope for years. Author and speaker Tony Campolo was so moved by Lockridge’s words that he has been sharing the message with his audiences and written a book by that name.

Even though the circumstances in the world have changed, the power of the Cross hasn’t, and the hope of the Resurrection remains timeless. Today of all days, let’s remember the incredible LOVE that was extended to us on that gruesome Friday so long ago, ponder its meaning, and share it with our loved ones.

Here is an excerpt from that famous sermon, as relevant as ever, followed by my “updated” 2020 version of the conclusion:

It’s Friday. Jesus is praying. Peter’s a sleeping. Judas is betraying. But Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. Pilate’s struggling. The council is conspiring. The crowd is vilifying. They don’t even know That Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. The disciples are running Like sheep without a shepherd. Mary’s crying. Peter is denying. But they don’t know That Sunday’s a comin’.

It’s Friday. The Romans beat my Jesus. They robe him in scarlet. They crown him with thorns. But they don’t know That Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. See Jesus walking to Calvary. His blood dripping. His body stumbling. And his spirit’s burdened. But you see, it’s only Friday. Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. The world’s winning. People are sinning. And evil’s grinning.
It’s Friday. The soldiers nail my Savior’s hands To the cross. They nail my Savior’s feet
To the cross. And then they raise him up Next to criminals. It’s Friday. But let me tell you something Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. The disciples are questioning. What has happened to their King. And the Pharisees are celebrating That their scheming Has been achieved. But they don’t know It’s only Friday. Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. He’s hanging on the cross. Feeling forsaken by his Father. Left alone and dying Can nobody save him? Ooooh It’s Friday. But Sunday’s comin’.

It’s Friday. The earth trembles. The sky grows dark. My King yields his spirit. It’s Friday. Hope is lost. Death has won. Sin has conquered. and Satan’s just a laughin’.
It’s Friday. Jesus is buried. A soldier stands guard. And a rock is rolled into place. But it’s Friday. It is only Friday. Sunday is a comin’! *

2020: It’s Friday. An invisible enemy has invaded nation after nation. The peoples of the world are terrified. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Once booming cities are all but empty. London, New York, and Paris are ghost towns. Italy is a graveyard. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. People are isolated from loved ones, separated by glass, social distancing, and fear. Smiles are hidden behind masks. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Hospitals are filled to capacity. Medical staff look like ghosts. They try to extend compassion through masks, gloves, gowns, face shields, and their own anxieties. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Families are devastated, losing loved ones without saying good-bye, mourning without funerals, grieving without comfort. Unless they know that Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jews are commemorating another time they were hidden in their homes, shielded from the Angel of Death by the blood of a spotless lamb on their doors. Again they are awaiting their liberation, watching and waiting for the second Moses, the promised Messiah. He has come! And He is coming back! (Sunday’s coming.)

It’s Friday. Christians are remembering the spotless Lamb of God, betrayed, arrested, beaten, mocked, spit on, nailed to a cross and left to die, the Lamb whose blood saves us from eternal death. (Sunday’s coming.)

It’s Friday. Skeptics and scoffers are shaking their fists at a God they claim not to believe in. They mock believers – “He’s coming back? You people have been saying that for almost 2000 years!” … almost. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Some are wondering if these are the end times. Some are predicting the end of the world. Some have given up hope. But don’t give up hope – Sunday’s coming!

So, now it’s 2021. Has anything changed in the past year? Are we still anxious to “get back to normal”? Are we willing to do anything it takes to get there?

Or are we realizing that “normal” is overrated? Is “normal” even possible any more? Is the world spinning out of control? (Have we ever been in control?) 

It’s Friday. “Has God forgotten us?” some are asking. Others are wondering, “Is He mad at us? Does He hate us? Have we gone too far?”

YES, we have sinned, YES we are all guilty, YES, we desperately need forgiveness, but He has paid for our sins on the Cross, so we can be FORGIVEN and receive eternal life!

Does God still love us? Look at the Lamb of God, sacrificed for you.

(YES, He loves us!)

He has not fallen off His throne! He is in control! He knows things we don’t, and He tells us to trust Him. Death is not the end! He is coming back. Whatever the world, the flesh, or the devil are telling us, we need to keep looking to Him, knowing that 



Enjoy my new favorite song that I played (and sang) countless times in the past year, which seems very relevant today:

Andrew Peterson – Is He Worthy? – YouTube

Prayer: Lord Jesus, today as we remember Your suffering on the Cross to pay for our sins, we look to You as our only hope in a fallen and desperately wicked world. It has been said that something is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it. We have seen the price You were willing to pay for us, and we know that You won’t give up on us now. We thank You, we praise You, we rejoice in the Love that was demonstrated by Your sacrifice, and the hope of the Resurrection that we celebrate this Sunday – and every day of our redeemed lives. In Your name we pray, amen.

Don’t Tell Me God Doesn’t Have a Sense of Humor.

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. Galatians 3:28

In ancient times every devout Jewish man began each day with a prayer of thanks: “Thank You, God, that I am not a Gentile, a woman, or a slave.”

Saul of Tarsus, a devout Pharisee, a “Hebrew of Hebrews,” as he later described himself, no doubt began his days with that prayer.

When a strange new cult arose, one centered around a Carpenter from Galilee who allegedly rose from the dead, Saul saw it as a threat to his people’s way of life. He set out to stop the rebellion in its infancy, getting letters from the high priest authorizing him to round up the believers and take them prisoner to Jerusalem.

But a funny thing happened on the way to Damascus. Acts 9 tells the story in detail, but in short, Paul got knocked off his horse by something – or Someone. The witnesses merely “saw a light” and “heard a sound,” but Saul was blinded and heard the voice of Jesus, asking him,

“Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?”

“Who are you, Lord?” Saul asked.

“I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,” he replied. “Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.” – Acts 9:4-6

Saul remained blind for three days, not eating or drinking anything, until God sent a believer in Jesus named Ananias to come place his hands on him and pronounce him healed. “Something like scales” fell from his eyes, and immediately Saul began to preach Jesus as the Messiah.

As many of you know, this was the apostle Paul, writer of about a fourth of the New Testament, who founded many churches in the first century all over the Mediterranean. One of these churches was the church at Philippi.

On the first Sabbath they were in Philippi, Saul – “also called Paul” – and his companions went outside the city, where a group of women were having a prayer meeting at the river. The men began to speak to the women, one of whom was a wealthy business woman named Lydia. She came to faith in Jesus when “the Lord opened her heart,” and after she and her household were all baptized, she persuaded the men to come stay at her house.

Later Paul and his companions encountered a slave girl with a spirit of divination, who followed them for days, shouting, “These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved.” (Acts 16:17) Paul finally turned and rebuked the spirit, and it left her. Most scholars believe that this slave girl then became a believer.

The owners of the slave girl were so enraged at losing their source of income that they dragged Paul and Silas before the authorities, charging them with stirring up trouble in their city. Paul and Silas were stripped and beaten severely, then placed in the inner cell of the prison with their feet in the stocks.

Next comes one of my favorite stories in the Bible:

At midnight Paul and Silas were not feeling sorry for themselves, but rather singing hymns to God while the other prisoners listened. Instead of applause, what they heard next was a violent earthquake that shook the foundation of the prison. The doors flew open, and everyone’s chains fell off!

Considering the situation and how dark it was, it’s easy to understand why the jailer assumed the prisoners were all escaping. This was a serious and shameful blunder for a Roman jailer, who would be executed for dereliction of duties. (I guess the Roman Empire didn’t accept “violent earthquake” as an excuse.) The poor jailer drew his sword to kill himself, but Paul called out to him that they were all still there.

The jailer called for lights, rushed in, and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. He then brought them out and asked, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

They replied, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved – you and your household.” (Acts 16:29-31)

Paul and Silas then gave a brief Bible teaching to the jailer and the others in his house, telling them about how Jesus came to save all of us by giving His life on the Cross to pay for our sins. They told them all that anyone who believed in Him and His atoning sacrifice would be forgiven, saved, and assured of eternal life with Him in heaven.

All the people believed! The jailer washed the disciples’ wounds, then he and his whole household were baptized, having received Jesus Christ as their Savior and Lord.

THAT’S RIGHT, FOLKS. The man who once began each day thanking God he wasn’t a Gentile, a woman, or a slave, founded what was to become his most beloved church, the Church at Philippi, whose first members were a woman, a slave girl, and a Gentile jailer.

Prayer: Lord, You have such creative ways of humbling our proud hearts. Thanks You for giving us the happy gift of laughing at ourselves. Help us never to take ourselves too seriously or think too highly of ourselves, but to recognize that every person You created is of equal importance, deserving our respect, and eligible for citizenship in Your kingdom. In Jesus’ name, amen.

P.S. The gospel that Paul and Silas taught to the jailer and his household is just as true today as it was back then, and as Paul learned, you don’t have to be a Jewish man to believe in Jesus and be adopted into God’s family. You only need to acknowledge your sin and need for a savior, believe that Jesus died for your sins, and surrender to him, asking Him to be the Lord of your life. Connect with him each day through prayer (talking to Him) and reading the Bible, and ask Him to lead you to a good fellowship of believers (church). This could begin the biggest, most glorious adventure of your life. For more details, check out this two-part series:

St. Patrick Would Be Pleased

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine … Ephesians 3:20

“If being a Christian is boring, you’re doing it wrong.” My favorite t-shirt (Clean Apparel)

Wednesday didn’t seem like St. Patrick’s Day. For the second year in a row the big St. Patrick’s Day parade had been cancelled and there were scant decorations to be seen. Still, I dutifully donned my green top, with a shamrock pendant and earrings for emphasis. I grabbed a little booklet I had written years ago for a St. Patrick’s Day outreach and stuck it in my purse before going out the door. I prayed, asking God to send me someone to share the gospel with.

I was on my way to have Bible class with my granddaughters. Today we were continuing the story of God’s call to Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac. This was the child of promise that Abraham and Sarah had waited decades for! Incredibly, Abraham was obedient and set out first thing next morning.

Leaving his servants at the bottom of the mountain, he said to them, “‘Stay here with the donkeys while I and the boy go over there. We will worship, and then we will come back to you.'” (Genesis 22:5) [Emphasis mine]

When Isaac asked the heartbreaking question, “‘Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?'” Abraham replied that ‘”God Himself will provide the lamb.'” (Genesis 22:7,8)

The day before, my granddaughters and I had speculated as to why Abraham had said “… we will come back to you.” We tossed around a few ideas. Was Abraham lying about both of them coming back? Or did he not intend to sacrifice his beloved son? Or was something else going on? But then one of the girls suggested that Abraham might have been hoping God would resurrect Isaac afterwards…

Bingo! Today I planned to show them that this was the correct guess. (Hebrews 11:19)

But as you well might know, resurrection was unnecessary. As Abraham raised the knife to kill his son, an angel of the LORD called out to him to stop. – It had been a test. Moreover, as Abraham looked up, he saw a ram caught by its horns in the thicket.

What a great example of how God rewards faith! Abraham had such faith in God’s power – even power to raise the dead – that he was willing to sacrifice his son in obedience. But his willingness was enough, and God provided the sacrifice Himself (as Abraham had predicted) before Abraham had to carry out the command.


The lesson today was about God’s willingness and ability to give us even more than we ask for, when we have faith in Him enough to obey.

Little did I suspect I was about to give Charlotte a living example before Bible class even started.

Before Bible I took Charlotte to get her allergy shots, and on the way I planned to pick up something at the vet’s. But when we got off the highway, I realized we had overshot the vet’s office and were headed for the allergist.

“Oh well,” I said to Charlotte, “we’ll just get your shots first.” Since the office always closes an hour for lunch, I knew we would get there a little before it reopened. But the last time that had happened, we had ended up having a nice conversation with some others who had also arrived early…

Wait a minute…! I prayed, suspicious. Is this timing part of Your plan? Do I have a divine appointment?

When we got there, two women and a young man about 13 were waiting.

“Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” I greeted them, and I’m pretty sure under their masks they were smiling.

“So … who here knows the most about St. Patrick?” I asked with a smirk, taking on the teacher role.

“Not much…”

“I know green, that’s about it.”

“Did you know St. Patrick wasn’t Irish?” I asked. There were some guesses as to what nationality he was, as the nurse opened the doors and we checked in. After we sat, I offered the most responsive woman the booklet with the quiz I had written.

“Check it out, if you want,” I said. “There are just four questions. How many of them can you get right?”

Challenge accepted.

As she read aloud the multiple choice questions, the young man stood “socially distanced,” peering over her shoulder.

[The quiz was posted here last year: https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2020/03/17/who-knew/ ]

She got two questions right, and laughed at the ones she missed. She went on to read the final pages of the booklet – “If St. Patrick were here, he would tell you …” – and when she had finished, she looked up, delighted.

YES! The gospel!” she exclaimed.

I told she was welcome to keep the quiz and share it with others, if she wanted to. I also told her about the outreach we were planning to do (one of these days!) at the parade, offering the quiz to any spectators who were interested, painlessly sharing the Good News, and giving people a real reason to celebrate.

Clearly a believer herself, she became very excited, and I asked if she would be interested in participating whenever the parade came back. She loved the idea! I gave her one of my cards with all my contact information, and she invited me to visit her church. She said they were “all about that kind of thing.” I got the idea she meant there were likely people at her church who would love to take part in the outreach, too.

“You know,” the woman said, “you could do this sort of thing with other holidays, too!”

I thought of the 15 years I directed a multimedia production on Halloween night, the subject of my next book …

[ https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2018/10/26/199/ ]

[ https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2019/10/25/tis-the-season/ ]

“Don’t get me started,” I laughed.

Prayer: Lord, You only ask us to “trust and obey.” Thank You that when I merely asked for an opportunity to drop a seed, You sent me a new friend, sister, and fellow harvester. Thanks for the excitement of a brand new day, and the joyful anticipation of seeing what surprises You have for me today, in Jesus’ name and for His glory. Amen.