God Provided A Spoon

And God will generously provide all you need.  Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others.  2 Corinthians 9:8 NLT

He sat there on the ground beside the road holding the tattered cardboard sign so familiar to all. Summarized, it indicated the bearer would “work for food.”  We were in the third car back from the traffic light. The sun was shining bright despite the mid-thirties temperature.

It was Thanksgiving Day and we were basking in the warm feelings of having just delivered forty-one meals to families in the Barksdale community.  We’d had the opportunity to pray with several people – for healing, for work, for a new place to live, for a church closer to home.  There had been one problem, though; we had too many pumpkin pies!

Since this was the first time we’d been a part of such a wonderful endeavor, we didn’t know to question the fact that the numbers on the recipient information sheets didn’t add up to the amount of food we had.   We’d given each family multiple pies, enough for each person to have 2-3 slices.  We gave two pies to a woman walking in the neighborhood who said she’d give one to her friend.  We knocked on doors to give away pies, hearing curses on the other side that changed to smiles and thank yous when the door opened and we stood there bearing pies.  Yet, we still had pies. 

Excited that God must have a reason for the extra pies, we prayed and drove, asking for His guidance.

So there we were, the third car back from the traffic light when we saw the man sitting in the grass.  I jumped out of the car, opened the back door, grabbed a pie and ran up to him. Knowing that sometimes people are seeking only money, I asked him if he’d like a pumpkin pie. 

We exchanged “Happy Thanksgivings” and I turned to run quickly to our car before the light changed.  Suddenly I realized something.  How would he eat the pie?  As I hurried down the hill, I turned back towards him and said, “I wish I had a spoon to give you.”

While buckling my seat belt and making a mental note to be better prepared, I was startled by my husband telling me to look.   He was pointing at the car ahead of us. 

Out of the passenger side window was someone reaching towards the man.  In the passenger’s hand  was a cellophane-wrapped spoon.   God provided a spoon.   The traffic light changed to green.

Praising God for His attention to detail, we drove on.   It had been ten years since we had lived in Spartanburg but God reminded me of the location of an apartment community for members of a psychiatric rehabilitation center. 

With pies still left, we parked the car and walked up to one building.   I approached a man seated outside a slightly open apartment door.  Looking past him, I could see that there were a couple of people in the kitchen preparing Thanksgiving dinner, I assumed.  When I asked him if they’d like a pumpkin pie, you’d have thought we had been mistaken for the Publishers Clearing House winner notification team.

“I can’t believe it!” he said, jumping up from his chair.  “We were just saying that we had everything for Thanksgiving but a pie….a pumpkin pie.  I can’t believe it.”  By this time, he was giving me a big hug. 

“Isn’t it wonderful how God cares about even the little things?  He provided this pie for you guys, in fact, He provided two,” I smiled as I handed him two pumpkin pies.  “Happy Thanksgiving!”

After finding homes for the remaining pies, with hearts overflowing with gratitude for the privilege God had given us, we headed to a friend’s home to share Thanksgiving dinner.   Share Thanksgiving dinner?  Wasn’t that what we’d been doing all morning?  And, God provided the spoon.

Upheld

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.  Isaiah 41:10

The journey has not been easy, and it is not yet over, but God has brought me far.

It was hard to go from being someone who was always on her way somewhere – by car or by plane, rarely stopping-- to being someone who got up in the morning for perhaps a half-hour, then returned to bed, hoping that would make it easier to breathe. 

During the most difficult times, we fought fear.  There was no reason to go to the hospital – what could they do?  I was unable to take the drug which would kill the mold in my lungs; it had been stopped by the doctors due to its effect on my heart. Oxygen didn’t help. The only peace we had was knowing I was completely in God’s hands—upheld in His righteous right hand to be exact.

My husband Jack – incredibly skilled in construction ministry and used to being able to fix anything—had to battle helplessness.   He sat on the edge of the bed and held my hand, he read healing scriptures to me; he prayed me through the most difficult breathing times.  He’d wake up multiple times each night to be sure I was still breathing.

And I was, only because God was holding me in His hand.

God provided a place for us to live near the construction ministry project He has given Jack to do, so we left Atlanta and are now closer to my physician.  My doctor agreed we were fighting this on physical and spiritual levels. What better way for satan to stop me from shining light on one of his favorite industries –sex trafficking of children -- than to make it difficult to breathe.

He hasn’t won.  God gives me the strength to continue increasing awareness of sexual exploitation; in fact, He has given me another opportunity to serve Him—speaking about pornography as the gateway to exploitation and how it’s all over His Church.

Greater is He who is in me, than he who is in the world.
               

Completely In His Hands

In His hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind. Job 12:10

It began with breathing difficulties. Many doctor visits and tests later, a single question….”do you have any mold in your house”…prompted a thorough search. Massive amounts of black mold, floor to ceiling in some places, were found in the basement of the mission house, the same place as the HVAC system. Some of the worst areas were directly under the room I used as my office.

My breathing worsened.  A culture confirmed that the mold had colonized in my lungs and a 16 week treatment of a strong antifungal medication began. Within two weeks, my breathing was clear but the medication was taking its toll. In another few days I would end up in the ER with the “dangerous, seek medical attention” side effects. Despite the ER doctor’s caution, I continued the medication believing it was my only hope at recovery from an infection with a poor prognosis.

I made it only 3 ½ weeks before my doctor stopped the drug that was affecting my heart. When I asked her if God could have used such a brief time to kill the infection, without hesitation she responded, “absolutely, He can heal you without any medication.”

And so began the journey.

A church gave us a place to stay while Jack did most of the mold remediation and replaced ductwork in the mission house. A company donated the chemicals necessary for cleanup. Another company donated the fogging of the entire house to ensure any remaining mold was killed. God provides!

We are now awaiting the results of an air test to determine if it is safe to return to the mission house we left in early December. It has been over two months since the medication was stopped. It seems odd to say that I am dependent on God for every breath since technically we all are, but without the medication I am completely in His hands.

Is there any better place to be?

God Provides!

And my God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:19

It began with an early morning phone call asking if I was “in town.” With Jack serving in northeast Georgia and me traveling all over the place presenting workshops on trafficking, most people can’t keep up with us – sometimes, we’re not sure where we are!

“Yes,” I responded, “but I’m not dressed for the public yet.” That was my way of preparing people for the face that God gave me without the touchups.

“Well, we’re on our way out of town and have a few things we wanted to drop off and one of them I’d rather not leave on the porch; we’ll be there in a few minutes,” through the phone came the reply.

The mysterious “rather not leave on the porch” comment piqued my curiosity and I agreed to come to the door as long as they wouldn’t tell others just how bad it was.

In the time it took for me to brush my hair (like it made much difference), brush my teeth (it’s the right thing to do) and ensure my huge fleece robe entirely covered my comfortable, yet rather ragged night clothes, the doorbell rang.

There stood two of God’s earthly angels, arms full of bags of groceries. Stepping inside and sitting them down on the floor, they quickly headed back toward the door. I felt certain that my appearance made them wonder if I were actually preparing for Halloween.

“What’s all this?” the question fell out of my mouth which had dropped open as I gazed over bag after bag of what can only be called “manna.”

“Oh, I just bought too many groceries, and God told me I should share them,” she said, eyes moist with emotion.

My eyes were filling up with utter gratitude yet I couldn’t help chuckling inside at the fib --surely no one ever “buys too many groceries.” Everything can be stored until needed. It was clear that God was using her to meet our needs. But He wasn’t finished.

“Here.” She grabbed my hand and pressed some thick folded paper into it. Now there was no holding back the tears as I shoved the thick folded paper into my robe pocket.

“Thank you! This will really help with the medical bills that have started coming in.” I gave her an update, and we stood in the foyer, and this impeccably dressed woman prayed for the not-dressed-for-the-public missionary. Then she and her husband left.

I took the bags into the kitchen and began opening each one. Each and every item was something we could use. Most of them were things that were on my shopping list. Why should I be surprised – God can read.

God Is Mobilizing!

Who will rise up for me against the wicked? Who will take a stand for me against evildoers? Psalm 94:16

As I was preparing for my 51st presentation on sex trafficking and commercial sexual exploitation of children, I paused (translated “procrastinated”) to check my email. There, nestled amid the junk mail, was an incredible treasure – an email from a courageous woman whom God is mobilizing to join the fight.

Amy had attended one of my workshops in Michigan on trafficking and God used it to show her how she could shine light on sexual exploitation. Using the talent He gave her, she wrote and recorded “Lost,” a song about how Christ can be the cornerstone, can heal, and can restore those who have been lost to exploitation.

As I thought about the last year and all the places I’d been, the faces of God’s army began to appear.

o A woman in Florida wants to reach out to other mothers who never knew their daughters were being molested by a family member. She wants to teach young moms the warning signs.

o A church in West Virginia wants to reach pimps for Christ.

o Another church is going to start a Celebrate Recovery group for those in their congregation who are addicted to pornography.

o A woman wants to minister to wives whose husbands are arrested—she knows what it’s like to have everyone fall away, even friends from church.

And now, Amy will increase awareness of sexual exploitation of children by speaking out and sharing her musical gift. Through the internet, her message can reach the millions who have suffered in the silence that permeates our churches. She will shine light in the darkness and take a stand against this evil.

God is mobilizing His servants.
Go God! Go Amy!

Unlikely Messenger

He reveals the deep things of darkness and brings utter darkness into the light. Job 12:22

As I stood in the pulpit of a small country Baptist church with the bright Sunday morning sunshine beaming through the stained glass windows, it hit me. How much more unlikely a messenger could you find? A short round woman with a hyphenated last name speaking in a southern Baptist church. Only God could make that happen.

Here I was delivering a message about sex trafficking of children and the slippery slope of pornography into child pornography. I talked about how the offenders are in our churches and how God was tired of those who call themselves by His name destroying the lives of children. I talked about how it was His time to shine light on this issue and how He was going to start in His own House!

I shared the story of a pastor we know—a pastor with a wife and two children --who was arrested for child pornography. I wondered aloud what would happen to his family. I wondered what his church could have done to minister to him when he first became involved, before he slipped down that slippery slope. I wondered what could happen if we as a Church started talking about pornography. How many more of him are there?

Unfortunately, I knew the answer. There are thousands. In my research I learned this was not an isolated case. Although that thought sickened the human side of me, the missionary side recognized the need to minister to the offenders. God still loves them; He will hold them accountable but He still loves them. We must hold them accountable and we must love them.

God must really be ready to shine light on this evil if He's using such an unlikely messenger. We must be ready for what He brings into the light.

Ruth Fields October 24, 1920 – December 30, 2010

While we wait for the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ. Titus 2:13

This past week we celebrated Christmas yet it was not the joyous time it should be. We wanted to celebrate the birth of our Savior but it was just too hard; we were caught in our own pain, avoiding the holiday and its ever-so-empty seat at the table once occupied by Dad. All those with experience say that you just "get through" the first holiday.

Last Christmas we were waiting for Dad’s imminent departure. Every activity was bittersweet knowing that it was our last with him. We spent day after day waiting –then on January 11, one day after his 90th birthday, Dad decided to go on to his Heavenly home.

This week we were in that place again—waiting—this time for Mom. We waited; although we knew where she was going and who she’d be with, it was still hard. We told her we loved her, that she’d soon see Dad, and that she’d soon be whole again. They were words we meant but our hearts struggled to say them.

Mom joined her husband of 68 years this morning and is now in the presence of her Savior.

It can’t get much better than that—except for all of us to be together. For that we must wait. We wait for His glorious appearing. Come quickly, Lord.