The day of August 26th, I asked God for a "big sale" so I could meet my requirements - and while I didn't ask for it specifically, I was thinking of a Brahmin handbag (as they're what we're pushed to really push.) About midway through my 6? 7? hour shift, I sold a $115 Skagen watch. I acknowledged it with a "well, not as big as I meant, but I'll take it."
I had been having a really bad day. At somewhere between six and six-thirty, God sent one of His emissaries to me and we ended up talking and praying until eight-thirty. At twenty till nine (closing time,) I was helping a lady look for a Brahmin handbag... she couldn't find one she liked and motored off (she was on a motorized shopping helper... whatever they're called.) Ten minutes later, I saw her, all the way across the department, holding up a handbag. A Brahmin handbag. At 8:51, I sold a $225 purse - the "big sale" I'd asked for at the start of my shift.
Friday, September 1, 2017
Monday, September 5, 2016
God touched me in a big way today
A minister has been visiting the family for several days, and I spoke to him today for the first time on this visit. We had only met once previously, and if I recall correctly, I didn't much speak at that meeting (as I was but a child, and an intensely shy one at that.) My shyness has, apparently, only increased over the years and I was beginning to think that he would spend the whole week and I would say less than fifty words to him the entire time.
The family attended a wedding yesterday, as did I and my sister. He wished to speak to me today about the wedding (making conversation, I believe.) We spoke to some small degree about it, about the bride and to a lesser extent the groom. The conversation lasted perhaps twenty minutes, then we mutually agreed we had no more to say on the subject. As he started to leave the room, on an impulse (a touch of Providence, I believe,) I asked him for advice on marriage.
We spoke for hours. I explained the situation of my broken family, my resultant brokenness, my boyfriend's broken family, his resultant wounds. I spoke of our shared shyness, our intent distrust of others, the highly unusual circumstances of our meeting, our logic-defying attachment and relationship. I spoke of my fear of both our failure, of our knowledge of what not to be and our lack of knowledge of what to be, of our determination to succeed and our uncertainty of how.
The minister compulsively began to pray for my boyfriend. I was grateful, of course, and added my prayer to his, glad that someone else was praying for my boyfriend (for we all need all the prayer we can get.) And then he began to pray for me. I know, intellectually, that many someones pray for me and my family, but it was the first time I'd heard anyone do so, so... personally. The shock that went through me was akin to the time I folded a fleece blanket that had been through the dryer, that sent its entire accumulation of static through me on the last fold.
I spoke to him also of a dear friend, saying what I could without betraying her confidences in me (for instance, that she is one of the smartest people I know, very intellectual, and very caring.) He prayed for her, as well, and again for me, and it was still stunning. Afterwards, we began speaking of miracles we'd experienced, or rather, I spoke of them and he offered to tell me his own stories, which offer I gratefully accepted.
I grew up without a father, or any guiding man in my life. I knew, intellectually, what I was missing, knew I had a hole in my heart that wasn't and wouldn't be filled. I knew something was wrong. But until today, when I had a man old enough to be my father, towards whom I'd been so shy as to be borderline rude, sit down with me, one-on-one, and just talk to me, who offered wise advice and support and listened, and just had an aura of warmth and acceptance about him, I didn't realize what it was. I think, today, I glimpsed what it would've been like, if I'd had a father. I am... so grateful, for these hours. My Father today gave me a great blessing, a wound I'd forgotten I had - have - assuaged.
The family attended a wedding yesterday, as did I and my sister. He wished to speak to me today about the wedding (making conversation, I believe.) We spoke to some small degree about it, about the bride and to a lesser extent the groom. The conversation lasted perhaps twenty minutes, then we mutually agreed we had no more to say on the subject. As he started to leave the room, on an impulse (a touch of Providence, I believe,) I asked him for advice on marriage.
We spoke for hours. I explained the situation of my broken family, my resultant brokenness, my boyfriend's broken family, his resultant wounds. I spoke of our shared shyness, our intent distrust of others, the highly unusual circumstances of our meeting, our logic-defying attachment and relationship. I spoke of my fear of both our failure, of our knowledge of what not to be and our lack of knowledge of what to be, of our determination to succeed and our uncertainty of how.
The minister compulsively began to pray for my boyfriend. I was grateful, of course, and added my prayer to his, glad that someone else was praying for my boyfriend (for we all need all the prayer we can get.) And then he began to pray for me. I know, intellectually, that many someones pray for me and my family, but it was the first time I'd heard anyone do so, so... personally. The shock that went through me was akin to the time I folded a fleece blanket that had been through the dryer, that sent its entire accumulation of static through me on the last fold.
I spoke to him also of a dear friend, saying what I could without betraying her confidences in me (for instance, that she is one of the smartest people I know, very intellectual, and very caring.) He prayed for her, as well, and again for me, and it was still stunning. Afterwards, we began speaking of miracles we'd experienced, or rather, I spoke of them and he offered to tell me his own stories, which offer I gratefully accepted.
I grew up without a father, or any guiding man in my life. I knew, intellectually, what I was missing, knew I had a hole in my heart that wasn't and wouldn't be filled. I knew something was wrong. But until today, when I had a man old enough to be my father, towards whom I'd been so shy as to be borderline rude, sit down with me, one-on-one, and just talk to me, who offered wise advice and support and listened, and just had an aura of warmth and acceptance about him, I didn't realize what it was. I think, today, I glimpsed what it would've been like, if I'd had a father. I am... so grateful, for these hours. My Father today gave me a great blessing, a wound I'd forgotten I had - have - assuaged.
Saturday, September 3, 2016
My Sister's Computer
Yesterday, I spilled boiling tea all over myself, my sister... and my sister's laptop keyboard. Despite my best and immediate efforts, tea got down into the keyboard. It was on the fritz for the rest of the day - even plugging in an external keyboard didn't fix the problem, but reacted the same way. And then, as I prayed about it, and when my sister listened to a hymn on it, it suddenly started working perfectly again. =)
The Flashlight
My little flashlight I use after everyone else has gone to bed disappeared a few days ago. I looked everywhere I could think of for it, for a couple of days, but no sign of it. At night as I was headed upstairs in the dark, I made a throwaway comment to God - "Please let me find my flashlight, this may be a silly non-issue, but it sure does help with navigation in the dark!" Checked again, in the same place I already had, and lo and behold, there it was. =)
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