When God Speaks, Will I Listen?

I’m an only child who grew up in a very sheltered and protected environment. I accepted Christ at the age of 10......I attended a Christian school from the 5th grade through graduation from high school and then went on to a Christian College.

I lived a normal life....married a guy who would soon become a pastor, had children, taught Sunday School , directed the youth choir, played the piano, moved to Fairbanks, raised teenagers, retired from the Railroad, became a grandmother and still play the piano. Life didn’t send me many curves, but when it did I was almost blown away. Without going into lots of details the last four years of my life taught me a new dependance on the Word and prayer. I’m here to tell you that although I’ve failed over and over again, God is faithful, loving and attentive to the cries of his children. I have a journal full of promises and encouragement that God has given me along the way to prove His faithfulness.

I want to fast forward to several weeks before my Dad died. The 23rd Psalm was so familiar to me that I guess I usually just skimmed over it, but one day the 6th verse became alive and grabbed my attention with such force. It spoke such hope to me....not only for me but for my Dad. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” I began praying that over my Dad most every day after that knowing that goodness and mercy had already followed him his 91 years. After he died, I then saw the fulfillment at the end of that verse. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Grandpa is proof of that.

Around the same time that Psa 23:6 spoke so forcefully to me I heard or felt another message, but it wasn’t as joyful. There were only 3 words, but they were spoken very distinctly into my spirit. Those words were "wash my feet" and I knew it applied to me and my Dad. I ignored them, because I didn't want to get a tub of water out and wash my Dad's feet. However, my refusal to listen didn't make the words go away. They would pop in my mind at odd and crazy times. There was no getting away from it. I heard other people say it, I read it....it was everywhere.

Two days before he died I took him to the doctor because he had some labored breathing and his ankles were swollen. The nurse told me the doctor would probably have Dad take off his shoes and socks. After the nurse left, I told Dad that the doctor may want to see his feet and ankles. He immediately said, but my feet are very scaly because it's hard for me to get down and wash them. The words "wash my feet" screamed in my head again and I knew I had to wash his feet. Fortunately the doctor didn't have him take his shoes and socks off....and Grandpa was spared any embarrassment he might have had. He had a follow up appt the following Thursday. I surrendered and told the Lord I would wash Grandpa's feet before that appt. You're now thinking, she washed his feet and all was well. However, I never washed his feet. I did surrender my "I don't want to wash his feet" to I'll wash his feet on Wed morning. However, in the early morning hours on Wednesday he died in his sleep and I never washed his feet. I wish I had, but the Lord has given me tremendous peace over that because I know I got my heart right BEFORE Grandpa died.

The story doesn’t end there.....

On the plane between Seattle and Anchorage, after 2 weeks of rest and relaxation in San Diego, I was reading a book* by David Jeremiah that was given to us at the Shadow Mountain church we attended in San Diego. On page 45, David Jeremiah says, “In Jesus’ day, people wore sandals and had dusty feet. That’s why it was a matter of common courtesy and hospitality for a host to provide a servant to wash the feet of guests as they entered a home.” Oh no.....there it was again......”wash my feet.” I thought I was past that. Jeremiah went on to say, “since most people don’t wear sandals or walk on dusty streets today, that custom is no longer practiced, but it still serves as a worthy metaphor for us.”

I don’t know where God’s call to “serve” will lead me, but I feel like He’s teaching me “as the body without the spirit is dead (this took on deeper meaning as I saw my Dad's body without the spirit), so faith without works is dead also. James 2:26

*Signs of Life

Always Read the Back of the Card

I received a "Thinking of You" card in the mail recently from a friend. After I read the card and the personal hand written note, I flipped the card over to look at the back. I always like to see who printed the card (i.e. Hallmark, American Greetings). This particular card was a Guideposts Greetings card and a short article by Gina Bridgeman was included on the back of this card. I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to share it with you. Thank you Sharon Weaver for sending the card and thank you Gina Bridgeman for your thoughts and insights. Just look what I would have missed if I had not looked at the back of the card.

Someone Cares

"I read recently that by the time you reach age seventy-five you might easily have slept the equivalent of twenty-five years of your life. I think I've already spent as least that much time watching. Last week I watched my son Ross play trombone in a jazz band concert, my daughter Maria dance in a recital and my husband Paul's barbershop quartet in concert. Soon, I'll begin the springtime rite of sitting on hard metal bleachers watching countless hours of high school baseball.

I was telling my mom that maybe I should be doing more and watching less when she laid the truth on me in her reliably sensible way. 'We can't all be stars,' she said. 'Somebody has to watch, or it would take all the fun out of performing.' Then I remembered how our daughter rushed up to us after last year's school musical. 'Did you see my dance?' she wanted to know. The fact that Mom and Dad had seen her seemed as important as the dance itself.

My mom also pointed out that there's more to my role than simply watching: Somebody has to drive to rehearsals, get the piano tuned and volunteer to bring the post-game snack. None of that may be glamorous, but I've learned that the performance - or whatever form that 'starring role' takes - couldn't happen without the supporting players. We watchers play an important role in the lives of others, who need to know that someone is cheering especially for them."

Gina Bridgeman

Guideposts Greetings

0925831