THE DRUNKEN STREET PREACHER

I've listened to many different kinds of preachers, radio preachers, TV preachers, Baptist preachers, Pentecostal preachers, liturgical preachers, philosophical preachers but I had never heard a drunk one preach until recently. Let me correct that, I have heard ones who are drunk with the Holy Spirit but that's a good drunk, being drunk with new wine like the people on the day of Pentecost. In fact, I've been drunk on the new wine of the Holy Spirit myself and it's a great experience. You experience joy unspeakable.
While in San Francisco recently we had an interesting experience. We heard a street preacher who was inebriated, but still he was talking about God and his marvelous ways. No words of hell, fire and damnation came from his mouth, only kind, loving words.
How the event played out was that several of us were watching our daughters, sons and in our case our granddaughter at soccer practice in a park. We were sitting on benches and enjoying the antics of three and four year old children doing soccer drills.
Suddenly out of nowhere an unkempt man approached the spectators and asked us a strange question, "Do you think it would be offensive if I smoke a cigarette out here in the park in the sight of the children?" What a gracious question to ask. He seemed genuinely concerned about smoking where the children could see him.
We all assured him that it was fine with all of us if he smoked because he was certainly far enough away so that the children wouldn't be subjected to the smoke. He wandered off and sat on a bench about 25 feet from us. He walked unsteadily, staggering a bit, and it was very obvious that he was under the influence of some form of alcohol. He plopped himself down on the adjacent bench and lit a cigarette. He watched intently as the soccer coach led the children in their drills. Then he would gaze admiringly at the spectators as we cheered every accurate kick of the ball, while we laughed and talked among ourselves.
After a few minutes the man staggered back into our sight and began his preaching. He told us that the children were very blessed to have parents and grandparents who encourage them and treasure them. He added that the soccer coach will be blessed mightily by God because she is teaching children valuable lessons that will benefit them in life. Then he quoted the scripture, "Whatsoever you do to the least of these My children, you do to Me." And he told us that the young soccer coach was right in the center of God's will because she was speaking kindly and lovingly to the children, so she will be blessed.
I became very impressed by the man's knowledge of the Bible at this point.
He went on to say that he didn't have any admiration from parents or other adults as a child and he is delighted to see that there are children who have a foundation of love, that it will give them a stability in their lives that he never had.
Then the sermon preached by the drunken man switched subjects to what happened in the Garden of Edan when satan tempted Adam. He made it clear that Eve influenced Adam, but that Adam was the one who was responsible for allowing satan to enter the earth. He went on to talk about problems between men and women and how the problems affect families.
My thoughts were that this man has more revelation than a lot of preachers who were standing in pulpits that day preaching to an auditorium full of people.
Quickly the sermon switched subjects again. It began to be apparent that some people in our group of spectators were getting weary of listening to him and trying to watch the children at the same time. The new subject of his sermon came in the form of a testimony. He began to tell us about his alcoholism. He testified that hard liquor had ruined his life. He said that God is gracious and kind, that He has taken away the desire for hard liquor. The man said the desire for the taste of hard liquor is completely gone. Then he confessed that the desire for the taste for beer is still with him, but he is trusting God to take away the taste for beer, that he only drinks a few beers every day. My husband and I encouraged him, agreeing that God will complete the work He began.
The other spectators were very edgy by this time, so my husband gently told the man that we were pleased for him, but if he didn't mind that we really wanted to devote all of our attention to watching the children in their soccer pursuits.
The drunken street preacher apologized profusely with genuine humility for taking up our time, but he did want us to know how God helps him personally.
He reiterated that God will bless the soccer coach for her kindness to children, that the children are blessed by having loving parents and grandparents, and that we will all be blessed by God for bringing up the children with love and respect and kindness.
The kind gentleman staggered back to his bench and resumed watching the soccer practice.
He secretly drank from a can of beer discretely concealed within a paper sack, I'm sure to conceal it from the sight of the children.
As soccer practice ended, the man rose from his bench and staggered deeper into the park toward the area where homeless people sleep. We all watched him with what I'm sure were varied emotions, some with relief that he was gone. One of the moms said that all the parents chuckle at the fact that the "crazies" in the park never come out unless out of town grandparents are visiting soccer practice. All the other parents agreed.
My husband and I told them that we weren't bothered in any manner, that we were impressed with his knowledge of the Bible, his revelation knowledge and his gentile nature.
As we rose from our benches to leave the park the kids began running and playing together, and the parents were discussing the schedule for the next practice. My husband and I walked slowly away and joined hands and quietly prayed that God would complete the work that He has begun in that wonderful man, asking that God will completely take away the taste for all alcoholic beverages in an instant, and that the man will be completely whole again with a revelation of how much God loves him and honors him, even in his present addiction. That's the way God works, he looks beyond the outer man with its imperfections. God sees the inner man and his needs.
I know God is blessing the street preacher who spoke Truth to us in loving words, even with slurred speech and unsteady legs. God spoke through an ass one time to Balaam. God spoke kind words to us through a drunken street person, a homeless man who was fighting his own personal demons.
God is a Good Father and He will see that the man wins his battle. We have asked God to do that for that lonely man who is surely one of the people Jesus spoke about who are "poor in spirit" and said that "theirs is the Kingdom of God." Jesus also said whatever two people agree and ask on earth, that God will do it so we know that God is giving that man the desires of his heart, completely taking away his addiction,
That drunken street preacher may become another Paul, sent to preach freedom to other captives of alcohol and drugs who have been rejected by their families, who gather together in the park with other troubled lonely people in an effort to form a semblance of a family.
The drunken street preacher certainly blessed me and I know God is blessing him.

photo from www.life.com/image/1675450

photo from http://www.aspencountry.com/

Brother Jerry, Wherefore Art Thou?

At the Las Vegas airport, on the second leg of our journey, the person at the airline desk announced that our flight to San Francisco would be delayed in boarding for about thirty minutes. "No big deal," we commented after we called our daughter and told her about the delay since she and her family were going to pick us up in San Francisco.
However, after boarding the plane and taxiing for a short ways, the pilot came on the intercom and said that we would be waiting on the plane another hour before taking off due to weather at the San Francisco airport. No problem for us since we're flexible.
Again we make the call to our daughter about the delay.
Fortunately our seat mate was a talkative gent, eager to pass the time in conversation. He asked about our children, told us at length about his family and his business adventures in construction. We were delighted to converse since it passed the time quickly. By the time the hour in delay passed we were old friends with Jerry, knowing lots about him and his family.
Clearance from the tower came after an hour, and we made the much anticipated long taxi down the runway and the plane took off an hour and a half later than the scheduled time.
Steve began reading his book and I finished reading mine. Soon after departure the plane ride began to be unusually bumpy and rain began to streak by the windows in great force. That unpleasant ride continued for a long time and other passengers began to get jumpy and concerned.
I commented to Steve that this experience reminded me of our airplane trip to Houston eightteen years ago after learning that I had breast cancer and a lesion in my lung. On that fateful trip I was scheduled for an early appointment at M. D. Anderson the next morning with a world renown breast cancer specialist and we had to get to Houston that night. We were scheduled to land in Dallas and take another plane to Houston Hobby Airport. The skies around Dallas were unsettling and the plane was being tossed around like a toy by the turbulence. Since it was expedient that we get to Houston that night so I could make the appointment the next morning, Steve and I started praying that God would make a way for us to get to Houston. After circuling Dallas for a long time, suddenly the pilot came on the intercom and said that the plane was not able to land in Dallas because of the weather conditions, so the plane was going to go to Little Rock, Arkansas, and land there. Since we had to get to Houston and we were unsure if we could make connections in Little Rock we continued to pray amidst the griping and groaning of the other passengers. They had other plans also, and Little Rock was not in their plans, nor was it in ours. About thirty minutes into the diverted flight to Little Rock the pilot made another announcement, that being that we could not land in Little Rock, so the only other place we could land would be Houston Hobby, exactly where Steve and I needed to go. It was a miracle for us, that God could divert the plane to where we needed to go so that I could make the difficult-to-arrange appointment the next morning.
That was the story I told Jerry, our seat mate, about our experience nineteen years ago. He was delighted with the story and grinned from ear to ear.
Jerry began to tell us some fabulous testimonies. One involved a nine million dollar spec house he had built right before the bottom fell out of the housing market. It would not sell and would not sell. Jerry related to us that he fell flat on his face before God one night and asked for help in selling the house. Sure enough, a few days later he had not only one but two offers to buy the house. He sold the house to the highest offer, of course.
As we were approaching San Francisco, in the landing pattern we could see the ground getting closer and closer. The ride became even more bumpy and jerky. Suddenly the engines roared and the nose of the airplane went up in a steep climb for a few miutes. We were above the clouds again. As we leveled off the pilot came on the intercome and announced that we couldn't land in San Francisco because of weather conditions, so we were going to land in San Jose. That announcement was met with more gripes and groans from all the passengers.
The delay in landing gave us opportunity to hear another of Jerry's testimonies. He told us that after the sale of the house, he decided to do some charity work since God had answered his prayer for a buyer for the house. He began to work at restoring a camp for disadvantaged and abused children. At the camp the pipes carrying water from the springs to the swimming pool and pond were full of sand. Jerry told us that he worked one evening until almost midnight trying to clear out the pipes so that the swimming pool and pond could fill with fresh water from the mountain springs. He was not successful and left for home having failed in his efforts. Jerry told us that the next morning someone called him and commented that Jerry was a miracle worker. Jerry answered the young man, saying that he was in no mood for sarcasm. The young man told Jerry he had to come see the swimming pool and the pond, which Jerry did. He couldn't believe his eyes, the pool and the pond were filled with fresh, cold water from the springs. God had performed a miracle for Jerry. He commented to us that he is still wondering what happened to the sand in those pipes which had previously stopped the flow of any water.
We rejoiced with Jerry, exclaiming about the wonders of God.
Then Jerry noticed the book that Steve was reading, The Shack, which is about having a one on one relationship with God. Steve gave the book to Jerry and told him it is a good book, which Jerry had already heard that critique from other people.
Our plane landed in San Jose and passengers who had carried their luggage onto the plane began to rush down the aisle to get off, while the pilot and flight attendants cautioned them to get back to their seats. The pilot apologized for the rough ride and the sudden climb, explaining that his notification of a dangerous wind sheer necessitated the maneuver.
Eventually 45 passengers were released from the plane while all of them complained and griped, hurling insults about the airlines, etc., not realizing that their lives had been saved.
Jerry and Steve and I were excited about God's activities in our behalf, so we were laughing and talking. Standing in the aisle, pushing to exit the plane, one woman commented, "You're the only happy people on this entire plane." She didn't know that we know the Rescuer and Savior so we weren't worried.
Another young woman noticed the book, the Shack, in Jerry's hand and commented what a great book it is. Steve told Jerry, who agreed, that he certainly needed to read the book since there was a confirmation from another person.
Jerry had contacted his son, who met him in San Jose instead of San Francisco, and he was able to exit the plane with the others. He was very generous to offer to take us to San Francisco to our daughter's house about two hours away. We declined his offer, knowing that we could fly back to San Francisco on the same plane and take a taxi to our destination.
Jerry exited the plane after graciously accepting my card bearing the web sites of my blogs and my YouTube reading. On his way off of the plane, he waved a loving gesture, smiling a huge smile, knowing that God had arranged the encounter, making a celebration out of the chaos.
Brother Jerry, I know you're out there telling people about the way God arranged your steps, as well as ours, so that we could hear your testimonies and celebrate them with you. and you could hear our testimonies and celebrate them with us.
God has a way of doing that, bringing creativity out of chaos.

MIRACLE IN A BUICK

Mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law have a long, long history of having problems, sometimes resulting in alienation of members of families. For some reason mothers-in-law and sons-in-law don't very often have that problem.
I had a good relationship with my mother-in-law Marguerite Allen. She was a smart, congenial, active lady who had four sons. She had a special relationship with all of her daughters-in-law.
Some relationships were occasionally stormy, but most of the time there was great love and respect for the matriarch of the family. She was educated as a nurse, found that was not her calling, but she became a professional woman after college in the early 1900s . She professed to having been the head of the first welfare system in Denver.
We all knew that Mom's word was the final edict in any situation, not only with Dad but also with the sons and their wives. I would say obedient respect is a good phrase to describe our attitude toward her.
She listened very closely all of the time and when birthdays and Christmas came around we always received multiple gifts from her and they were always articles that we had at sometime or other voiced that we wanted or often it was something for which we had only wished. She was a giver of goods, for sure.
When Mom was in her late 70s she developed polymyalgia, a muscle disease. She eventually ended up in a wheel chair. That was a real blow to her independent nature, but it seemed as time went by that a sort of enjoyment came along with the care and attention that the wheel chair afforded her. Dad was very good about taking care of her and carting the wheel chair around from place to place in the trunk of the car.
As years went by, pain began to escalate as the polymyalgia gained more control of her body and there were times when the pain showed on her face. Most of the time she was reluctant to admit to having pain, as women of that generation were inclined to refrain from sharing emotional fluxuations.
On one occasion when my husband Steve and I were visiting Mom and Dad she seemed particularly feeble because of the pain. Yet, the custom was that we always went to The Club to eat an elegant meal and she wasn't going to miss that tradition for anything.
We got her ready to go and Dad wheeled Mom out to the car and put her in the passenger seat. I got in the back seat where I usually rode. Dad and Steve went back into the house to get something and that left Mom and I alone in the car.
Mom told me pitifully that she had been in so much pain that it didn't seem like she could stand it anymore. I asked her if she wanted me to pray for her. She immediately said she welcomed the prayer. I knew that I had the anointing of the Holy Spirit even before I touched her because I felt that familiar heat in my hands that I had felt many times when praying for people.
I touched Mom on the shoulder, prayed a very short prayer, Episcopalian style since that was their denominational preference, and I felt the fire of the Holy Spirit go from my hands into her body.
"Oh, my goodness, Tommye. That's wonderful, " she squealed, setting aside her usual emotional control.
"That's God," I answered.
Steve and Dad came out of the house, having retrieved what they sought. They got in the car but nothing was shared about the spiritual event that had just happened between God and Mom. Sometimes when we immediately give voice to such an occasion the words rob it of its reality. That's why Jesus occasionally told some people to, "Tell no man," after a miracle had occurred in his ministry.
We ventured off to The Club. When we arrived Mom proudly stated that she didn't need her wheel chair and the guys didn't need to get it out of the trunk. Dad asked her, "Are you sure? I certainhly think you need to use it."
"No," she firmly stated. "I don't need it." She walked into The Club assisted only by Dad and Steve lightly touching her arms. She was "aglow with the Spirit."
I know that she had felt the power of God in her body and it had thrilled her. The next time we talked on the telephone she told me that she wished I was there with her to "touch " her again.
I don't remember her talking about pain again, even though she did eventually go back into the wheel chair.
As I look back on the occasion of Mom being "touched" by the power of God, I see that it was a miracle that she walked into the Club. She had not walked with confidence in several years and I know that her muscles were deteriorated from lack of use as well as the effects of a crippling disease.
When I think of Mom now I always visualize that look of utter surprise when God's power surged through her body, resulting in an expression change from one of pain into one of utter joy and peace.
Marguerite Allen had the privilege of experiencing God's love before she met him face to face in heaven where she is completely reveling in it. I'm sure she thanked God even more excitedly in heaven than she was able to in the earth when she was covered by His love and power that time in the front seat of the Buick.

LUCKY LADY

The Tuesday Girls have been meeting for twenty-five plus years for lunch, prayer, Bible study, sharing of stories and laughter. We formerly met every week on Thursdays but changed to Tuesdays a few years ago. We have thousands and thousands of testimonies of answered prayers, many of which astound other people, as well as us.
My favorite testimony relates to guess who? Me. Of course it would be my favorite, because it happened to me at a very fearful time in my life. I had been diagnosed with breast cancer, which was scary, but I had been healed of breast cancer before and I knew that I would be healed again because I had had a dream relating to it that gave me the assurance of being healed. However, I also had received notice from my doctor that there was a tumor in my lung.
Now, that was really scary because that meant that the cancer in my right breast had metastasized into my right lung. That news threw me for a loop. The breast cancer I knew could be defeated, but two areas of cancer in my body shook my confidence in God.
After a trip to Houston to confer with specialists there, I came back home to have a breast biopsy, later a lumpectomy, also thoracic surgery to remove the tumor in the lung and then radiation and possibly chemotherapy. That was a lot to swallow. But, I did have the prior dream that I would be emerge healthy. The thought kept coming to my mind that I wondered how God was going to heal me this time, yet fear was always present. I knew the healing would be different from the last time.
One day while waiting for the day of the lung surgery to arrive I was visited by one of the Tuesday Girls. Marcia came to bring a meal to my husband and me. When I let her in the door she saw the fear and concern on my face, I'm sure evidenced by my eyes which were swollen and red from crying. I was the teacher of the Tuesday Girls. I was supposed to be strong. She was shocked by the fear I was displaying on my countenance, so she just very simply just put her arms around me and said, "Father, give Tommye peace."
Neither Marcia nor I were prepared for the immediate results from that prayer. In the matter of a split second I began to laugh uncontrollably from the depths of my being. I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. It was catching, I guess, because Marcia also began to laugh. There was nothing to laugh about, but we could not stop. I remember leaning against the wall in the entryway so that I wouldn't fall down laughing. That rare episode went on for at least fifteen minutes with both of us laughing in what I now know is holy laughter brought from God to chase away fear, dread, doom, and any other afflicting thoughts. When we forced ourselves to at least slow down the laughter Marcia delivered the meal into the kitchen, then left on another errand. I continued to laugh for hours no matter where I went in the house.
When my husband Steve came home, I could hardly tell him about the peculiar day I had had because every time I started to comment on it I started roaring with laughter again.
Finally when nighttime came I was able to eat and sleep without laughing, but the next day and for many days after that glorious day every time I passed the place in the hall where Marcia had prayed for me, I began deep belly laughing again. It was wonderful. The fear and the dread and the concern and the doom were still gone. I know now that the laughter was coming from my spirit because my spirit knew that God had immediately healed me and the way to affirm the healing was for me to be overcome with joy.
Marcia was the beautiful vessel that God chose to deliver healing to me. I will be eternally grateful to her for her obedience. I think she just meant to deliver a meal, but she ended up delivering much more. She delivered healing to my body.
Later on, while still waiting for the appointed day of the lung surgery Cathi, another Tuesday Girl, called me on the phone and told me that God had told her to tell me that not a bone would be broken. I was thankful that Cathi heard that from God, but frankly I wasn't concerned about my bones. I was concerned about two tumors, one in the right breast and one in the right lung. I graciously thanked Cathi for that message, puzzled about the bone reference.
After the lung surgery the surgeon told me that I was a very lucky lady. He exclaimed that my ribs were so flexible that he was able to merely move them out of the way when he removed the tumor from the lung. He said that he usually has to break a person's ribs to remove a tumor growing at the location of the one in my lung. His comment was that when he has to break the ribs of a person that they usually have pain in their rib area for the rest of their lives but that I wouldn't have to suffer any pain because he did not have to break any of my ribs. The additional good news was that the tumor now was benign, confirming my dream.
The mystery was solved. Cathi had prophesied to me the outcome of the lung surgery, that I would emerge with no broken bones.
Every one of the Tuesday Girls prayed passionately for me during that precarious time in my life. We have shared so much together, food, laughter, tears, prayers and deep, deep love.
What a lucky lady I am. L-U-C-K means living under Christ's kindness and I am one Lucky Lady.

STANDING TALL

Can a leg really grow several inches in a few seconds?
Yes, it can because my husband and I witnessed it.
Several years ago a six year old boy and his mom came to the small church we were attending at the time and the mother told the pastor of the church that her son had told her that God told him if he would go to, "Bob's church," have the elders pray for him, that God would lengthen his short leg and he wouldn't have to wear his bulky steel brace and ugly shoe with the three inch thick sole.
My husband Steve had never visibly seen a miracle but he had experienced one, having been transformed from an alcoholic to a sober person by God the preceding year. He knew God could do anything and everything, but this was an unusual request. It wasn't new to Bob, the pastor, because he had seen a lot of miracles happen in his church and other churches.
The pastor called certain men up, the elders, and positioned them behind the boy who was seated in a chair. Steve happened to be the one who was standing at the boy's back. Bob told the men to lay their hands on the boy. Steve laid his hand on the boy's back at hip level of the short leg.
Bob prayed a short prayer asking God to make the boy's body whole and perfect. All of a sudden Steve said, "Wow," and jumped back as the boy's leg began to lengthen to the same size as the other leg. Steve was astounded that he could feel the leg begin to grow under the hand which he had laid on the boy's hip. The boy was indeed healed.
The boy and his mom walked out of the church with the boy carrying his bulky brace with the brown shoe and its three inch sole. He was grinning from ear to ear, walking without a sign of a limp.
Many years later we came face to face with the mother of the boy. She recognized Steve as one of the men who had prayed for her son. We inquired about her son who was now in his late teens. She gleefully told us that he is wonderful young man, tall and healthy. She proudly stated that after her son was healed at the church that they took the brace with it's orthopedic shoe and threw it in the Arkansas River, never to need it again.
The child's faith certainly made him whole. He was obedient to what God told him to do, and he left that church with a leg the same length as his other one.
Children and God just seem to have a special bond. After all, He said, "A little child shall lead them." In this situation the boy's faith certainly led many people to believe in the ability of God to heal.

MARY, MARY, WAS FORMERLY CONTRARY

When we were teaching a series of Bible studies in another small town one of the ladies in the group asked me to come to her work, a hospital, and pray for a coworker who had multiple sclerosis. Mary was the person's name. She was so contrary because of the pain from the illness that her boss had to turn her desk to the wall in a corner because of the unpleasant attitude she exuded in the office which affected everyone. My friend Sue was convinced that Mary would be healed if I would pray for her.
My mind-set at the time was not one of overwhelming belief. In fact, I was plagued with thoughts of unbelief and doubt because I had heard two preachers who had international healing ministries state that they had never healed a person with multiple sclerosis. Those statements programmed my mind with thoughts of impossible results from praying for Mary.
I had learned years ago that there are many ways to get healed, medicine, surgery, exercise, diet and prayers. We all go to God when everything else fails. I also knew that there was no way I could ever get anyone healed, that only God knew each individual situation and He is the only one who could intervene in this situation and get Mary healed of the devastating disease which had already afflicted her legs, causing her to walk with an uneasy, halting gait from which she easily fell.
The disease affected her attitude so badly that she was an office outcast. My heart went out to her even before I met her face to face.
Boy, did I quickly go to God about this matter, wanting His insight and wisdom.
Sure enough, He had the solution to the problem, one that no man could ever have devised. He told me that Mary was very religious, keeping all the religious feasts of her denomination, that she was a loyal member of the church, but that she wasn't reborn, she hadn't been renewed by the Holy Spirit.
God showed me in an image in my mind that I needed to tell her that she needed His life inside of her to chase out the multiple demons that had invaded her body. He instructed me to then pray for her to be baptised in the Holy Spirit and her body would be healed completely of the effects of the disease when the Holy Spirit completely permeated her body, soul and spirit.
That all sounded good to me, relieving me of the responsibility of getting Mary healed. What could I do? Humans can't supernaturally heal. Only God can do that.
I set up a meeting with Mary in a small room at the hospital where she worked and went loaded with faith that God would do what He promised He would do, heal Mary of multiple sclerosis and restore her body and mind, even her attitudes.
It was easy to identify Mary when she walked into the room. Her limp and her demeanor, having had them adequately described by Sue, were very apparent. Anger exuded from her entire being, and rightfully so, anger at her being afflicted by a horrible crippling disease and being the office outcast.
I began to talk to Mary about the new birth experience and being baptised by God himself through His Holy Spirit. I read the scriptures to her relating to the power of God healing people. And then I told her what God had told me about her, that she would be healed completely when she accepted the totality of God into her life. That got her full attention, that God had told someone specific instructions about her. She felt that that must mean that God truly loved her and wanted her whole.
We prayed a simple, child-like prayer and Mary began to speak in God's spiritual language as the Spirit gave her the words. She was instantaneously healed and made whole, body, soul and spirit. Her entire countenance changed. She exuded light and joy from her eyes rather than the precious anger.
Mary's testimony and healing impressed her mother and brother so much that they both wanted the same experience, which God arranged as only He can do.
There is always a remnant of doubt when one sees someone else so dramatically healed. In the years after Mary's healing I occasionally wondered if she still was healed and whole. God takes care of those things too, like I said, as only He can do.
We were having breakfast in a restaurant ten years later and Mary and her mother walked in. She recognized us and came to our table and told us that her life was still changed very dramatically since that fateful day when she met God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, She told us about a wonderful dream she had had where she was in heaven and God revealed many mysteries to her. She was transfigured.
Mary was a blessing to me more than I was a blessing to her that wonderful day. My job was a delivery person. All I did was introduce her to the most Loving Father she could ever know, and He did His wonderful work. My blessing was that I got to see Him do what He knew was necessary for Mary.
Mary is no longer contrary. She's a garden growing the fruit of God's Holy Spirit.

LIGHTENING THE LOAD

When an adult child who always seems to have things under control comes to your home and you immediately discern a weight is bearing down on his or her emotional health to the place where it is apparent to every casual observer, a parent always becomes duly concerned. I experienced this to a large degree with our daughter Pam several years ago.
Pam loved her job, was in a loving relationship with a nice guy, was in a city that she dearly loved. What could be wrong, I wondered when I noticed that she was in a depressed mood when she came 1500 miles home to visit?
I knew that she would share her burden with me, if need be, but I also knew that she needed to initiate the conversation because parents instinctively know whether or not to probe with the, "Are you all right," question that usually gets the, "Yes. Why? I'm all right," answer.
We did the usual things on her visit, ate at her favorite restaurants, fixed her favorite meals, went shopping. She visited with local friends, but still she wasn't her usual joyful, confident self.
The day before she left while we were watching a TV program I asked her how work was going. The emotional volcano erupted. She began to tell me about her supervisor at work, a woman who had become petty, domineering and abrasive to everyone in the office. Pam went on and on describing the negative atmosphere in the office and the abusive daily activities of her supervisor, who was making the lives of everyone in the office miserable.
I knew to let her go on and on, pouring out the frustration and helplessness she felt in the business situation, confessing that she dreaded going to work every morning, telling about her coworkers and their identical feelings toward the woman. It was apparent from Pam's description of the woman that she was controlling and bullying her staff.
As I listened to Pam talk, the word "forgiveness" kept coming to my mind. My logical, fleshly mind kept wanting to say that Pam should complain to the big boss, but my spiritual mind keep saying, "Forgive." How was I going to minister the truth of forgiveness to my precious daughter without sounding religious? Sometimes to religious people forgiveness means to suffer in silence, being taken as a wimp who lacks a good self image, suffering in silence. Yet I knew the truth behind the act of forgiveness, that it is not a weak thing but it is a powerfully strong activity that brings many benefits to the one who forgives.
I waited for an opening. After Pam ran out of her legitimate complaints I told her that there was a way out of the situation for her. She asked what I meant. I let the spiritual wisdom that can only come from God explain to her that she was so burdened and heavy hearted because she had been carrying around a 150 pound woman for months and months by letting thoughts of the woman's pettiness and cruelty and bullying occupy 100 percent of her own thought life. Pam admitted that the woman was all she could think about.
Then it was time to explain the Biblical principle of forgiveness, which is an act of releasing the person who has wronged you from your mind, thus releasing their hold upon you. I explained that God wants us to forgive other people because He loves us so much that he doesn't want us to obsess about being wronged to the point where our health, both mental and physical, are affected. He wants us to forgive petty people for our benefit, not for the benefit of the other person who had been cruel. He knows that holding a grudge will burn deep into our psyches and cause us to attract other depressing thoughts until we become ill, depressed and vengeful. Since forgiveness means to give forth, to release someone from our thought life, then we know that forgiveness is meant to lighten our load.
Pam was totally accepting of the spiritual truth about the power of forgiveness. We prayed a simple little prayer, allowing Pam to speak forgiveness for the supervisor and asking God to change the woman and the situation because it was no longer Pam's burden. Amen.
When we finished the short, simple prayer, Pam looked like a 10,000 pound weight had been lifted off of her. She was visibly changed, free from the weight of the 150 pound woman who had become a constant, heavy burden.
Pam gently wept with relief, saying that she was going to tell the other people at work about what we had discussed so they could be relieved of the depressing burden that they also had.
We never had to discuss the woman again after Pam went back, free as a bird, to her home. However, in a matter of a few months she called and said the woman had been transferred out of the department. Forgiveness (giving forth) in the act of releasing the supervisor left the woman free to be transferred. She was no longer bound to that department by the mental distress of her coworkers.
What a joy to know that everything in the instruction book, the Bible, is God's effort to help each one of us in our daily lives so that we can have a happy, joyful existence in the earth.
"Forgive and let go," is one of the greatest principles taught by Jesus. He was right on in his lesson on forgiveness. I saw it with my own eyes. I saw forgiveness lift a burden right off of my daughter and put it on God, who doesn't mind because he says He's a Big Guy and He can handle it.