I went "on tour" last week. That line makes me laugh. I spoke to three Bible Studies. These women are the most powerful group of people in all of Northeast Georgia. If you have need, let them know and they will pray it down for you. I was a little nervous. Just who am I anyway? What do I know? I hate being in the limelight. I really have very little to offer these wise God fearing women. But after dinner and a pep talk with Lynne Kolo the other night, she quickly reminded me that I actually do have a story to share. We all do. It is Revelation 19:10. The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy. I get to share my story so He can do it again. She asked me how I would feel if someone came up to me and shared their heart and their dreams. I knew right away that I would cheer them on, encourage them and hang on to every word. She then asked why would my own story be any different. So I took the podium with a little less fear and just shared just a sliver of my story. Their prayers over me were worth every moment of stage fright, they were powerful. I am certain, that I now have a place where I can share my needs, my fears, my concerns and I will have a tribe, lifting me up to the Father.
I asked them to pray specifically for my house, for renters, good ones. As of this moment, I have TWO people who are interested and are coming to see it on Friday! But get this: I left for Virginia on Wednesday. I came to meet up with fellow missionary friends and start to plan curriculum for the vocational school. At 2:00am on Thursday morning, I get a phone call. Someone had broken into my house. My first thought at this news was actually just extreme annoyance. I thought of all the glass that would have to be cleaned up, having the window repaired, the insurance claim filed, and the fact that I was wide awake at 2:30am and I simply became annoyed that this thief had robbed me of a good night's sleep. I really could not have cared less about the silly things he could have taken. What would he even get? A television? Would he really take Aunt Grace's silverware? A dress from J. Crew? Please don't take my Thai fisherman pants. Or my library book because it is due back next week. Don't wipe your muddy thief shoes on my rug because it is a hand-tied Persian tabriz. I went through the house, in my mind and wondered just what a thief would want from my little world. What would be worth invading my home to take into yours to make your life better, to sell, to make a dime, to fund your bad habits? So I sat there in the dark and wondered what his house looked like. I wondered if it was full of flat panel HDTV's and if the gigantic TV in my living room would even fit out the window. I think if it were to land on him, it would certainly knock him out. Then I kinda wanted him to take it. Where am I going to put it anyway? I am going to have to store most of my things and a 50lb television takes up lots of space. It is huge. Then I started to think of things that I would gladly let him take off my hands. Please take that old coffee maker, it doesn't make the coffee hot enough and I prefer my French press. Please take the wicker chairs off the front porch, they are falling apart and I would not be able to give those away. Then I realized that those sweet Bible Study women had given me some money. I saw that little stack of $1's and $5's and $20's on my dresser. Then I got a little mad. So I prayed. I prayed for all four corners of that house to be surrounded. That while my house sat gaping open, broken window, completely exposed, that not one single solitary item be taken from my house. I prayed that two story tall angels would guard the place and that no thief lay a finger on my offering. Because of that tiny offering, I got defensive. My things didn't really matter much, but their offering matters a whole lot. I prayed a blessing over the poor guy who leads this life of such depravity that he has to break in to people's houses and take things from them. I felt pity for him.
I drifted off to sleep. The next morning, sun up, coffee in hand, I await the phone call. My neighbor calls as he walks to my home to access the damage. He sees the broken window and crawls inside. Not one item taken. My offering still in the rubber banded roll on my dresser. All out of date electronics and even the new state of the art ones, all still there. The rug full of dust as always, mud free. Apparently the Brink's alarm that I almost had cut off last week frightened him off. I could almost see the angels standing back with their arms crossed, pleased with their night's work.
And now I just wish I were there to high five all you ladies, thanks for sending my name up to the Throne Room. It worked.
And now I just wish I were there to high five all you ladies, thanks for sending my name up to the Throne Room. It worked.
