One of my biggest struggles is that my son doesn't have a man in his life. His father lives in Puerto Rico and we're in New York. I always feel as though my son's missing out.
One day when I was feeling particularly down about my son not having a dad, I suddenly heard him scream out in pain from the next room. When I ran to him, I discovered he'd bitten his tongue, which we all know can be quite painful. He sat in my lap, and before I could comfort him, he started praying out loud. As he asked the Lord to help him in his moment of pain, I was stunned and blessed.
It's as if God provided this little reminder that he's with my son, that my little boy isn't without a Father. It wasn't just a confirmation from God that my little one is being taken care of, it also was proof that the spiritual truths I'm trying to instill in my son are taking root. What a double blessing!
Every now and then when I start to get blue thinking my little boy is missing out on a father, I stop and remember he has the great I Am in his life.
Evelyn
One day about a month after my wife left me, I wandered rather aimlessly through the church office where I served as a pastor. I encountered Jim, our Sunday school director, who asked me how I was doing. I told him I wasn't sure.
He responded, "Let me guess, you have a dullness in your head so you can't think straight. There's a pain in the pit of your stomach that won't go away. And there are times when your knees are so weak you feel like you can't stand or walk right."
I was amazed and said, "That's exactly how I feel. How did you know?"
With humility, he said, "I know because I've been where you are." At that moment this co-laborer in ministry became my dear friend in my pain. He was God's incarnation of grace at that point. It helped me to know someone else knew and cared. I wasn't alone in my blinding pain; someone else was willing to walk with me.
Years later I resigned my position at the church and took a fast-food job to help make ends meet as I sought some other type of work. At times I wondered if anyone would hire a hard-working, out of work, former minister with 24 years experience in church work and a Ph.D.
One weekend we were in financial trouble. I'd been faithful to tithe from my meager income and sought to stretch the rest of my money as frugally as possible. My nine-year-old son and I were barely making it by. Then I received an income tax notice stating that I owed $500 to the IRS. I didn't have the money, so I prayed for God's help. I told no one about my need, not even my son.
A few days later I treated a friend to breakfast at the fast food restaurant where I worked. At the end of the conversation, this pastor friend pulled out his wallet and gave me three $100 bills. I'll never forget his words to me, "Where I come from, we take care of our own."
Sunday morning when my son and I went out to the car to go to church, an envelope was attached to our windshield with five $100 bills inside. The message on the outside simply read, "God bless you, Brother Woods." It was then I told my son how God had provided. He gave me enough money to pay the tax bill, tithe, and have enough left over to live on for a week. God is faithful and gracious!
Woods
A couple years ago I read the biography of John Adams and was struck by how much we know about this man from the letters he wrote. For long stretches of time, the demands of his work required that he be separated from his wife and family. During those times he wrote them lots of letters. Many of those letters survived and have become a valuable source for historians.
Then I started looking at how we communicate today: e-mail, phone calls, text messages, and instant messages are all very clever, quick, and direct, and yet all very temporary. What will the next generations have of us to know what we were like?
