During a routine physical examination my family doctor found a growth in my throat. He sent me to a specialist who determined it was a five cm tumor that was in such a difficult area of the throat that he recommended another specialist to do the operation. The encouraging news was that the doctor felt it was likely benign.
My position on a local hospital board lead me to see another qualified surgeon but he would not do the surgery but referred me to a surgeon in Texas who he said was considered the best in the nation for this type of operation.
I became very nervous by these developments and my 23 years of working in hospital administration did nothing but increase my anxiety. In short, I became a nervous wreck. This heightened the concern of my adult children who had not seen their dad in such a state.
My online research revealed the potential after effects could be permanent numbness of the tongue, paralyzed facial muscles, speech impediments and vocal cord damage. Now I was a babbling fool worrying about all these possibilities over which I had no control. My research about the hospital and the surgeon gave me some peace of mind but they were both in Texas and I was in Florida. My adult children wanted me to have to oepeation closer to them so they could be with me.
For the next five months I delyed the inevitable and this was taking a toll on me. I was waking up in the middle of the night in fear of dying. I even rationalized not having the operation if the rate of growth of the tumor was slow enough I could avoid having to remove it. However reality set in when it becamse clear that the tumor was blocking my nasal passages and affecting my breathig when I was in certain positions. I was my own worst enemy.
I could see the Lord was trying to help me though other people but I was trying to stay in control. One night I woke up struggling to breath. I got out of bed and fell on my knees and cried out; "Lord I can't do this on my own. I am lost without you. Lord please take control."
During the next week my son David who is a pastor of a church in Massachusetts and who was not expected to make the trip to Texas was able to rearrange his schedule
and said he would be able to fly to Houston and be with me. Shortly after this my other son Robert told me he would be with me when David had to leave. I knew this was the Lord showing me that he was in control and woking things out.
I flew to Texas for pre-op testing. My confidence in the surgeon was very high. However, he said from the Cat Scan he could see no clear method of removal without the need to split my jaw to gain access to the tumor. He futher stated that a group of other surgeons he meets with for pre-op reveiw were all in agreement. The operation was scheduled in two weeks. I was devastated.
I returned home mad about his findings and determined to find another surgeon who would do it my way and remove the tumor without breaking my jaw. I was playing doctor again and trying to take control.
This time being a little more aware of the negative effect of my taking control, I called my Pastor Brian and asked for another prayer session with the church elders.
We arranged the meeting and I tried intensely to convince everyone that I needed their support to find another way. One of the elders responded with love and compassion and sent me yet to another ENT specialist. He refused to do the operation but did offer to pursue other surgeons at Moffit Hospital (in Florida) and Massachusetts General (near my sons).
After making those appointments I woke up one night with and even worst breathing attack. Once again I was back on my knees. I had tried to take control again and I failed again.
I arose the next day in obedience to the Lord and called my son and asked him to meet me in Houston for the operation. The morning I left, my daughter gave me some helpful scriptures for reassurance. (Psalm 34:11-18 and Psalm 55:22)(1Peter 5:6-7)
and (Colossians 3:15).
I returned to the surgeon who had scared me out of my wit but I was confident the Lord would answer my prayers and guide this surgeon to remove the tumor without breaking my jaw.
The night before the operation I met the surgeon for the final briefing.He again emphasized that I should be prepared for the jaw splitting. He did not want me to wake up in recovery and be shocked by my condition. Knowing the Lord was in control and would answer my prayers, I looked the doctor in the eye and said; "I know you must do what you think you must do but I believe God will show you another way!" He smiled but said nothing.
I prayed that night along with my son. There were hundreds of people praying for me in three different churches. The operation was performed the nexy day and I woke up hours later in Intensive Cara... without having a split jaw. The operation was successfully completed by the Great Physician guiding the hands of my Texas surgeon.
What I didn't know was that my surgeon was also a believer and he was willing to be guided by our Lord. When he went to opersate he noticed a slight opening and he was able to massage the tumor with a finger into a position where he could remove it.
When I was dischared the surgeon said to me, "prayer does get answered."
I can testify to that. Praise the Lord
Robert Polimeni
Sarasota
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Yard Sale
It wasn’t your typical yard sale. For me it was a desperation move.
I was down to my last six dollars. I needed gas to get to work, the electric bill was overdue and my water would be shut off if I didn’t pay it by Monday. It would be another week before I received another paycheck and I was already one month behind in my rent as well as my other bills.
My wife and I were separated and I had recently been diagnosed with Hepatitis C. I had no money for medications. I really was at the end of my rope. I needed this sale to survive one more day.
A friend arrived for moral support and I asked him if he would pray with me. We stood together in my empty living room. He prayed, “Lord bless my friend and help him though this situation. Without you we are nothing but with your blessing we know we can get through anything. You said Lord, ‘Come to me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’ We are here Lord and we need your help, Amen.”
Everything I owned was out on my lawn except my mattress, clothes and the computer on which I couldn’t mare the payments.
During the first hour I sold $80 worth of furniture including my couch, end table and some lamps. The flow of potential buyers slowed considerably during the second hour and I took in just $20 more. During a lull the phone rang and I dashed into the house to answer it.
The lady on the phone said, “You gave me a quote to paint my house several months ago. Does your offer still stand.”
I could feel myself sharting to shake but I managed to say calmly,“It sure does.”
“How soon can you start?”
“Lady I’ll be there this afternoon for the one third down payment so I can buy your paint.”
I rushed outside to retrieve my kitchen table and chairs from the lawn. Then I told my friend about the call.
“I made a bid to paint a lady’s house six months ago and she calls me back today of all days. Go figure.”
My friend looked at me with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes and said, "That call was prompted by the Lord answering our prayer for help."
Patrick Lavilla
Kensington Park
Sarasota,Fl.
I was down to my last six dollars. I needed gas to get to work, the electric bill was overdue and my water would be shut off if I didn’t pay it by Monday. It would be another week before I received another paycheck and I was already one month behind in my rent as well as my other bills.
My wife and I were separated and I had recently been diagnosed with Hepatitis C. I had no money for medications. I really was at the end of my rope. I needed this sale to survive one more day.
A friend arrived for moral support and I asked him if he would pray with me. We stood together in my empty living room. He prayed, “Lord bless my friend and help him though this situation. Without you we are nothing but with your blessing we know we can get through anything. You said Lord, ‘Come to me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’ We are here Lord and we need your help, Amen.”
Everything I owned was out on my lawn except my mattress, clothes and the computer on which I couldn’t mare the payments.
During the first hour I sold $80 worth of furniture including my couch, end table and some lamps. The flow of potential buyers slowed considerably during the second hour and I took in just $20 more. During a lull the phone rang and I dashed into the house to answer it.
The lady on the phone said, “You gave me a quote to paint my house several months ago. Does your offer still stand.”
I could feel myself sharting to shake but I managed to say calmly,“It sure does.”
“How soon can you start?”
“Lady I’ll be there this afternoon for the one third down payment so I can buy your paint.”
I rushed outside to retrieve my kitchen table and chairs from the lawn. Then I told my friend about the call.
“I made a bid to paint a lady’s house six months ago and she calls me back today of all days. Go figure.”
My friend looked at me with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes and said, "That call was prompted by the Lord answering our prayer for help."
Patrick Lavilla
Kensington Park
Sarasota,Fl.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Look Around, Who Can You Help?
My flight to Sarasota is canceled because of bad weather in the Northeast. I call my wife and tell her the bad news.
“Well, do God’s work,” she says, “look around and see who you can help.”
As she says this I notice a man in a wheelchair staring at his flight ticket. I ask him if I can be of help. He nods explaining his flight has been canceled and he needs to be rebooked. We make our way through the concourse to the appropriate counter and stop behind a line of disgruntled travelers.
The agent looks up and notices my friend in the wheelchair and waves us forward. I wheel Earl forward(we are on a first name basis now.) The agent takes his ticket, taps rapidly on a keyboard for a minute or so, and hands him a new ticket.
“You are on the next flight to Philadelphia with a connection to Dayton. It should be boarding in about forty minutes.”
He then asks for my ticket. “Oh we are not together, I’m trying to get home to Sarasota.”
He looks at my ticket and returns to the computer.
There is more incessant tapping on a keyboard. Finally he says, staring at the computer, “I can’t get you to Sarasota but I can get you to Tampa, would that help?”
My wife drives the 45 miles from our home to Tampa International and we have dinner together because I took her wise suggestion and helped someone in need. By serving others we our served.
R.M. Salter
Nottingham, Sarasota, Fl.
“Well, do God’s work,” she says, “look around and see who you can help.”
As she says this I notice a man in a wheelchair staring at his flight ticket. I ask him if I can be of help. He nods explaining his flight has been canceled and he needs to be rebooked. We make our way through the concourse to the appropriate counter and stop behind a line of disgruntled travelers.
The agent looks up and notices my friend in the wheelchair and waves us forward. I wheel Earl forward(we are on a first name basis now.) The agent takes his ticket, taps rapidly on a keyboard for a minute or so, and hands him a new ticket.
“You are on the next flight to Philadelphia with a connection to Dayton. It should be boarding in about forty minutes.”
He then asks for my ticket. “Oh we are not together, I’m trying to get home to Sarasota.”
He looks at my ticket and returns to the computer.
There is more incessant tapping on a keyboard. Finally he says, staring at the computer, “I can’t get you to Sarasota but I can get you to Tampa, would that help?”
My wife drives the 45 miles from our home to Tampa International and we have dinner together because I took her wise suggestion and helped someone in need. By serving others we our served.
R.M. Salter
Nottingham, Sarasota, Fl.
Finding an Answer
By the time I was 33 I had accomplished all I had set out to achieve in my first five years of medical practice. I had a very busy internal medicine practice in Phoenix, I had opened a second office in Scottsdale, I was named professor of the year at the University of Phoenix , I was teaching at the medical school and was listed as one of the top ten doctors by a local magazine. I was working 80-90 hours a week and was becoming more and more disgruntled with myself.
I remember one day pulling into my driveway in North Scottsdale and sitting in my car thinking…this can’t be what it is all about -no way. I have a wonderful wife, three kids, a great house, money in the bank and I can’t think of anything I need to buy to make me happy. I had reached that moment when I realized that I had everything I wanted only to find I was empty. I thought there must be an answer and I started searching.
One Easter (I usually put myself on call on those holidays so I didn’t have to go to church) I got this call that a consult had to be done on this guy before he went into surgery. I was about two miles from the hospital when they called me back and said, “We couldn’t wait he had to go into surgery, can you be here in two hours to see him when he gets out?” I’m thinking great! Here I am, dressed up, no where to go for two hours.
I’m sitting at a stop light and I notice all these people crossing the street. I look over and I see this huge Baptist church. I thought,“you know it might be funny to go in there and watch all these week people.” So I went in and sat in the back.
The pastor gets up and says, “Some of you can’t believe the circumstances that brought you to this room. In fact some of you have been probably running from this room your entire life and somehow you ended up here today and you think its an accident. It is not,its God.” He continued, “You may have even come here to make fun of us.” He had my attention.He went on, “You may think you are really smart…you may even have given up on God…but you know something is missing….I dare you to read the book of John like you would read any other book objectively. Give it 90 days and don’t walk away from God until you have examined God as an adult.”
I thought, ok I’ll read John and get it off my check list and move on to what life is really about.
I grew up in a conservative Baptist church…my dad was a deacon, my mom did the weddings at the church…I was a church rat.I knew all the stories. So I dusted off my Bible and my plan was to read it at night because I was afraid Tammy,(his wife) who was not a believer,would find out I was reading the Bible. We were moral people but not religious.
I read the opening line of John, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God…and he was with him from the beginning …“ I remember sitting up in bed and going “Oh my God…Jesus is God” I had always seen him as God’s son..but that night I sat up and realized God came here. Once I made that connection everything started making sense. God came here to save me. Pretty soon I’m telling Tammy, “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT IS GOING ON HERE."
I was at work one day seeing patients, and I remember sitting on this exam table talking to this lady and I had this profound sense that this is not what I have for you. I went out of the room and went to my nurse and I said “I’m not suppose to be here anymore.” She said what? I said this. She sat me down and went and got my partners. They thought I had finally cracked. They had expected I would because I was doing so much.I was teaching, I had a growing practice and I was the director of a 16-doctor group. They said you have a vacation coming up…go back to Dallas.
We went to Dallas for 10 days and I watched my kids interact with their cousins. We returned to Phoenix and that Monday while sitting at my desk thinking I’m not suppose to be here, the phone rings. Its a guy who has been trying to get me to be a consultant. He asked what are you doing Thursday? I flew out to California.
When I returned from the trip Tammy said we are suppose to go back to Dallas aren’t we? I said, “I think so but I don’t know why.” I turned in my resignation and took the consulting job. I agreed to go all over the country with the condition I was going to live in Dallas.
Tammy and I went to Dallas to look for a house.She walks into this house that had just come on the market and says, “ this is it."We go back to Phoenix and put our house on the market and the next day a guy walks in and says, “this will work, I’ll buy it for what you are asking, cash deal, but on one condition…I need you out in 30 days.”
Within a month of me saying “I’m not suppose to be here anymore,” I changed jobs, we sold our house and bought the one in Dallas and I still have no clue to what is really going on.
The second day in Dallas, I’m unpacking boxes and there is a knock at the door. It’s a boy(around 7) and he says I’m wondering if you have kids. I said yeah we have three, they are not here right now but they would love to meet you. He says, “my mom wanted me to give you these cookies and welcome you to the neighborhood.” I said great. He gets about ten steps down the driveway , turns around and says, “ You think you all might want to go to church tonight? I said, “maybe.”
Tammy wasn’t anti-church it just wasn’t part of our routine. Basically she said , I’m not going to drag the kids to all the churches- when you find one you like we’ll all go.
It was a Saturday night. I looked the church up on the internet and we went. I liked it, kids loved it Our neighbor, David, turns out to be an attorney and one of the founding members of Fellowship Church in Grapevine that had Ed Young Jr. as the pastor. On our way home he asks, “What do you do for a living?” I told him I’m a doctor and a health care consultant. He asks, “What kind of consulting do you do? “ I said I measure outcomes and efficiencies and I help set up health care systems.
He pulls the car over, stops and says, “You are the one. We have been praying for you.” I’m going What?
He asks, “ Can you been in LA on Thursday?” I said I can be anywhere. I’m not doing anything right now. So we fly to Lax. David is the counsel for the Dream Center which had been trying to get a medical ministry going.
I spent the next year and a half volunteering my time between consulting assignments helping them plan and orchestrate a medical ministry. One of my clients was Sarasota Memorial Hospital and I was going to Florida one week a month and to Los Amgeles one week a month.
It was getting close to the time that LA needed a doctor to run this ministry. David looks at me and said you look like a deer in the headlights and I said we’ve been working on this thing for two years and I need a doctor to run this. David says let’s good back to the hotel and just pray. So we prayed and that night at the church service Tommy Barnett brought me up on stage and said I want you to know that Dr. Burns has been working with us for a long time to develop a medical ministy.and I’m sitting there thinking -Yeah but we don’t have a doctor and I’m trying to figure out how God is working.
After the service this guy comes up and says, “Dr.Burns I’m a doctor and I think I am suppose to come here.” He says he had this inner city clinic in Louisiana and they lost their funding. “I was watching TV and heard something about the medical ministry here and we decided yesterday to fly out.
He turned out to be the doctor to staff this clinic. I remember flying back to Dallas thinking I’m not suppose to be the one in LA but I still had the heart to want to do a medical ministry.
Tammy and I had a vacation scheduled for Orlando, but first a swing by Sarasota to do some work while she and the kids went to the beach. Later in Epcot Tammy turns to me and says, “We are suppose to move to Sarasota, aren’t we?” I said I think so. They had been trying to get me to come Sarasota fulltime. I kept thinking this can’t be what God wants me to do. I’m in seminary and we love our church in Dallas where we are small group leaders.I argued with God for about three or four months.
This can’t be what you want us to do. We are not going. Kids are comfortable in school. God just kept saying you are going to Sarasota. We submitted. We weren’t happy about it and we came kicking and screaming. I was angry and was talking to God the whole trip. God I don’t understand why?
Even the house we were moving into wasn’t really what we wanted. It was in a gated community and we had never been in one of those before. I’m in this house that I really don’t like and I’m unpacking boxes and I’m mad and arguing with God I’m saying you bring me to this place, where I don’t want to be, I don’t even have a church and there is a knock on the door.
I open the door and there is a boy (around age 7) and he says “Do you have children?” I said yes, but they are up at the pool but when they come back I’m sure they will want to play with you. He says, “My mom wanted me to bring these brownies to you.” I said Ok and he starts walking down the walk and I’m standing there going one- one thousand, two-one thousand, three- one thousand and he turns around and says “ Would you all want to go to church with us tonight?” And I said “Its Saturday.” And he says “We do church on Saturday.”
I said “Yeah I think we will be joining you at church tonight.”
At the hospital one of my jobs was to oversee the indigent care in Sarasota county. I asked where are the homeless people and I’m told there is this group that South Shore started, called Gifts from God and they serve the homeless in the park.
Several years have passed and I’m active with my church as an elder and volunteer administrative pastor. I’m still with Sarasota Memorial Hospital and that visit to the park has evolved into a mobile medical ministry called Saline Solutions serving the homeless and indigent among us. How all this happened is a series of God stories in itself.
I know now why God brought me to Sarasota.
Frank Burns
Sarasota,Fl.
I remember one day pulling into my driveway in North Scottsdale and sitting in my car thinking…this can’t be what it is all about -no way. I have a wonderful wife, three kids, a great house, money in the bank and I can’t think of anything I need to buy to make me happy. I had reached that moment when I realized that I had everything I wanted only to find I was empty. I thought there must be an answer and I started searching.
One Easter (I usually put myself on call on those holidays so I didn’t have to go to church) I got this call that a consult had to be done on this guy before he went into surgery. I was about two miles from the hospital when they called me back and said, “We couldn’t wait he had to go into surgery, can you be here in two hours to see him when he gets out?” I’m thinking great! Here I am, dressed up, no where to go for two hours.
I’m sitting at a stop light and I notice all these people crossing the street. I look over and I see this huge Baptist church. I thought,“you know it might be funny to go in there and watch all these week people.” So I went in and sat in the back.
The pastor gets up and says, “Some of you can’t believe the circumstances that brought you to this room. In fact some of you have been probably running from this room your entire life and somehow you ended up here today and you think its an accident. It is not,its God.” He continued, “You may have even come here to make fun of us.” He had my attention.He went on, “You may think you are really smart…you may even have given up on God…but you know something is missing….I dare you to read the book of John like you would read any other book objectively. Give it 90 days and don’t walk away from God until you have examined God as an adult.”
I thought, ok I’ll read John and get it off my check list and move on to what life is really about.
I grew up in a conservative Baptist church…my dad was a deacon, my mom did the weddings at the church…I was a church rat.I knew all the stories. So I dusted off my Bible and my plan was to read it at night because I was afraid Tammy,(his wife) who was not a believer,would find out I was reading the Bible. We were moral people but not religious.
I read the opening line of John, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God…and he was with him from the beginning …“ I remember sitting up in bed and going “Oh my God…Jesus is God” I had always seen him as God’s son..but that night I sat up and realized God came here. Once I made that connection everything started making sense. God came here to save me. Pretty soon I’m telling Tammy, “YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT IS GOING ON HERE."
I was at work one day seeing patients, and I remember sitting on this exam table talking to this lady and I had this profound sense that this is not what I have for you. I went out of the room and went to my nurse and I said “I’m not suppose to be here anymore.” She said what? I said this. She sat me down and went and got my partners. They thought I had finally cracked. They had expected I would because I was doing so much.I was teaching, I had a growing practice and I was the director of a 16-doctor group. They said you have a vacation coming up…go back to Dallas.
We went to Dallas for 10 days and I watched my kids interact with their cousins. We returned to Phoenix and that Monday while sitting at my desk thinking I’m not suppose to be here, the phone rings. Its a guy who has been trying to get me to be a consultant. He asked what are you doing Thursday? I flew out to California.
When I returned from the trip Tammy said we are suppose to go back to Dallas aren’t we? I said, “I think so but I don’t know why.” I turned in my resignation and took the consulting job. I agreed to go all over the country with the condition I was going to live in Dallas.
Tammy and I went to Dallas to look for a house.She walks into this house that had just come on the market and says, “ this is it."We go back to Phoenix and put our house on the market and the next day a guy walks in and says, “this will work, I’ll buy it for what you are asking, cash deal, but on one condition…I need you out in 30 days.”
Within a month of me saying “I’m not suppose to be here anymore,” I changed jobs, we sold our house and bought the one in Dallas and I still have no clue to what is really going on.
The second day in Dallas, I’m unpacking boxes and there is a knock at the door. It’s a boy(around 7) and he says I’m wondering if you have kids. I said yeah we have three, they are not here right now but they would love to meet you. He says, “my mom wanted me to give you these cookies and welcome you to the neighborhood.” I said great. He gets about ten steps down the driveway , turns around and says, “ You think you all might want to go to church tonight? I said, “maybe.”
Tammy wasn’t anti-church it just wasn’t part of our routine. Basically she said , I’m not going to drag the kids to all the churches- when you find one you like we’ll all go.
It was a Saturday night. I looked the church up on the internet and we went. I liked it, kids loved it Our neighbor, David, turns out to be an attorney and one of the founding members of Fellowship Church in Grapevine that had Ed Young Jr. as the pastor. On our way home he asks, “What do you do for a living?” I told him I’m a doctor and a health care consultant. He asks, “What kind of consulting do you do? “ I said I measure outcomes and efficiencies and I help set up health care systems.
He pulls the car over, stops and says, “You are the one. We have been praying for you.” I’m going What?
He asks, “ Can you been in LA on Thursday?” I said I can be anywhere. I’m not doing anything right now. So we fly to Lax. David is the counsel for the Dream Center which had been trying to get a medical ministry going.
I spent the next year and a half volunteering my time between consulting assignments helping them plan and orchestrate a medical ministry. One of my clients was Sarasota Memorial Hospital and I was going to Florida one week a month and to Los Amgeles one week a month.
It was getting close to the time that LA needed a doctor to run this ministry. David looks at me and said you look like a deer in the headlights and I said we’ve been working on this thing for two years and I need a doctor to run this. David says let’s good back to the hotel and just pray. So we prayed and that night at the church service Tommy Barnett brought me up on stage and said I want you to know that Dr. Burns has been working with us for a long time to develop a medical ministy.and I’m sitting there thinking -Yeah but we don’t have a doctor and I’m trying to figure out how God is working.
After the service this guy comes up and says, “Dr.Burns I’m a doctor and I think I am suppose to come here.” He says he had this inner city clinic in Louisiana and they lost their funding. “I was watching TV and heard something about the medical ministry here and we decided yesterday to fly out.
He turned out to be the doctor to staff this clinic. I remember flying back to Dallas thinking I’m not suppose to be the one in LA but I still had the heart to want to do a medical ministry.
Tammy and I had a vacation scheduled for Orlando, but first a swing by Sarasota to do some work while she and the kids went to the beach. Later in Epcot Tammy turns to me and says, “We are suppose to move to Sarasota, aren’t we?” I said I think so. They had been trying to get me to come Sarasota fulltime. I kept thinking this can’t be what God wants me to do. I’m in seminary and we love our church in Dallas where we are small group leaders.I argued with God for about three or four months.
This can’t be what you want us to do. We are not going. Kids are comfortable in school. God just kept saying you are going to Sarasota. We submitted. We weren’t happy about it and we came kicking and screaming. I was angry and was talking to God the whole trip. God I don’t understand why?
Even the house we were moving into wasn’t really what we wanted. It was in a gated community and we had never been in one of those before. I’m in this house that I really don’t like and I’m unpacking boxes and I’m mad and arguing with God I’m saying you bring me to this place, where I don’t want to be, I don’t even have a church and there is a knock on the door.
I open the door and there is a boy (around age 7) and he says “Do you have children?” I said yes, but they are up at the pool but when they come back I’m sure they will want to play with you. He says, “My mom wanted me to bring these brownies to you.” I said Ok and he starts walking down the walk and I’m standing there going one- one thousand, two-one thousand, three- one thousand and he turns around and says “ Would you all want to go to church with us tonight?” And I said “Its Saturday.” And he says “We do church on Saturday.”
I said “Yeah I think we will be joining you at church tonight.”
At the hospital one of my jobs was to oversee the indigent care in Sarasota county. I asked where are the homeless people and I’m told there is this group that South Shore started, called Gifts from God and they serve the homeless in the park.
Several years have passed and I’m active with my church as an elder and volunteer administrative pastor. I’m still with Sarasota Memorial Hospital and that visit to the park has evolved into a mobile medical ministry called Saline Solutions serving the homeless and indigent among us. How all this happened is a series of God stories in itself.
I know now why God brought me to Sarasota.
Frank Burns
Sarasota,Fl.
Wedding on the Beach
We were walking along the shore at Palm Island Beach in December 2001.It was sunset and what I didn't know is that John had a surprise. What John didn't know was that the Lord had one, too!
At exactly 5:42 pm, when the sunset was at it's brightest and most colorful, John looked me in the eyes and asked me to be his wife. I was so happy and time just seemed to stand still. As we admired the beautiful diamond ring, which was reflecting the colors of the sunset, two dolphins jumped up out of the water! Right in front of our eyes, they jumped and played close to the shore! This was really very special because I LOVE dolphins and rarely see them. I felt it was as if the Lord was smiling down on us and celebrating too!
As we planned our wedding, set for a year later, December 2002, I told many people about the wonderful dolphins at our engagement. I always said, "Wouldn't it be something if the Lord sent dolphins to our wedding ceremony, too!" We were planning a beach wedding at The Radisson on Lido Beach in Sarasota.
In the months leading up to our wedding I worked with Kimberly, the wedding coordinator at the Radisson. I told Kimberly about the dolphins at our engagement and said that maybe God would send dolphins to our wedding ceremony, too. She laughed and said she always does her best to make the wedding perfect, but they usually don't see dolphins at the weddings there.
It was sunset on December 8, 2002, our wedding day. I stood in my gown waiting with my bridesmaids on the little bridge that leads to the beach. John and his groomsmen were already in their places down by the water. All of the guests were seated on the beach, facing the water, waiting for the ceremony to begin. We were told to stay out of sight and wait for Kimberly to come and give us the okay to proceed down the "isle."
Kimberly came running over with tears in her eyes. She said, "Sandy, you're not going to believe this! There are dolphins out there in the water! The guests are all looking at them! I've done a lot of weddings and I don't usually get emotional, but this is just what you wanted!"
I said, "God sent the dolphins, Kimberly.”
Sandy Kilroy
Lakewood Ranch,
Manatee, Fl.
At exactly 5:42 pm, when the sunset was at it's brightest and most colorful, John looked me in the eyes and asked me to be his wife. I was so happy and time just seemed to stand still. As we admired the beautiful diamond ring, which was reflecting the colors of the sunset, two dolphins jumped up out of the water! Right in front of our eyes, they jumped and played close to the shore! This was really very special because I LOVE dolphins and rarely see them. I felt it was as if the Lord was smiling down on us and celebrating too!
As we planned our wedding, set for a year later, December 2002, I told many people about the wonderful dolphins at our engagement. I always said, "Wouldn't it be something if the Lord sent dolphins to our wedding ceremony, too!" We were planning a beach wedding at The Radisson on Lido Beach in Sarasota.
In the months leading up to our wedding I worked with Kimberly, the wedding coordinator at the Radisson. I told Kimberly about the dolphins at our engagement and said that maybe God would send dolphins to our wedding ceremony, too. She laughed and said she always does her best to make the wedding perfect, but they usually don't see dolphins at the weddings there.
It was sunset on December 8, 2002, our wedding day. I stood in my gown waiting with my bridesmaids on the little bridge that leads to the beach. John and his groomsmen were already in their places down by the water. All of the guests were seated on the beach, facing the water, waiting for the ceremony to begin. We were told to stay out of sight and wait for Kimberly to come and give us the okay to proceed down the "isle."
Kimberly came running over with tears in her eyes. She said, "Sandy, you're not going to believe this! There are dolphins out there in the water! The guests are all looking at them! I've done a lot of weddings and I don't usually get emotional, but this is just what you wanted!"
I said, "God sent the dolphins, Kimberly.”
Sandy Kilroy
Lakewood Ranch,
Manatee, Fl.
A Toddler and a Stranger
My husband and I had been attending the Church of the Way, in Van Nuys California for sometime.
This particular Sunday was baby dedication day but our 15 month old stayed in the nursery because we had had her dedicated earlier. Following the brief ceremony the parents returned their babies to the nursery.
Looking back, we think that was when a door must have been left open and our little Andrea slipped out of the nursery unnoticed. She apparently made her way outside to the sidewalk and walked between two parked cars and was about to enter busy Van Nuys Boulevard when a man picked her up and brought her into the church foyer.
He presented her to an elder saying simply he found this little girl getting ready to cross Van Nuys Blvd. The elder recognized Andrea and sent someone into the church to get me.
When I saw Andrea she was lying quietly in the arms of the elder. It wasn’t until she saw me that she began to scream and cry.
Together, the three of us went back to the nursery. Everyone there was upset that Andrea had gotten out and relieved that she was safe.
The man that had brought her in was gone and the elder said he hadn’t seen him before. The odd thing was that Andrea didn’t go to men, not even to her father. Her tendency would be to run from a man especially a stranger. But the elder said she looked very peaceful in the man’s arm and she didn’t fuss when he took her from him and cradled her.
Some may call this luck but after people had calmed down the sentiment at the nursery was that someone was looking out for Andrea and sent an angel to rescue my little girl. I would not argue otherwise.
Barbara Koukl
Sarasota, Fl.
This particular Sunday was baby dedication day but our 15 month old stayed in the nursery because we had had her dedicated earlier. Following the brief ceremony the parents returned their babies to the nursery.
Looking back, we think that was when a door must have been left open and our little Andrea slipped out of the nursery unnoticed. She apparently made her way outside to the sidewalk and walked between two parked cars and was about to enter busy Van Nuys Boulevard when a man picked her up and brought her into the church foyer.
He presented her to an elder saying simply he found this little girl getting ready to cross Van Nuys Blvd. The elder recognized Andrea and sent someone into the church to get me.
When I saw Andrea she was lying quietly in the arms of the elder. It wasn’t until she saw me that she began to scream and cry.
Together, the three of us went back to the nursery. Everyone there was upset that Andrea had gotten out and relieved that she was safe.
The man that had brought her in was gone and the elder said he hadn’t seen him before. The odd thing was that Andrea didn’t go to men, not even to her father. Her tendency would be to run from a man especially a stranger. But the elder said she looked very peaceful in the man’s arm and she didn’t fuss when he took her from him and cradled her.
Some may call this luck but after people had calmed down the sentiment at the nursery was that someone was looking out for Andrea and sent an angel to rescue my little girl. I would not argue otherwise.
Barbara Koukl
Sarasota, Fl.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Brad's Story
Brad’s celebrity status is that he was the first golfer to lose a national title to Tiger Woods.
The year was 1991 and Brad Zwetschke was ranked number two behind Tiger in the U.S. Junior Amateur golf. In the championship match Brad was three up after five holes, and two up at the turn at Bay Hill in Orlando. It would be the first of many well publicized comebacks for Tiger who tied the match and defeated Brad on the first playoff hole.
“Coming out of school all I wanted to do was play golf and party. I lived the wild life,” says Brad.
Along the way he met Christina Mauldin, a preacher’s daughter from the South side of Chicago. Brad is also from Chicago. Within a year and a half they are married.
“She thought she was marrying a golf professional and I thought I was marrying an entertainer from Black Television.” (Christina had done a stint on the program Heart & Soul.)
“My wife is a strong Christian and my loyal supporter. She accompanied me on tour, which was arduous, lots of travel and expensive. Sometimes we slept in our van because we couldn’t afford the hotel prices.
“In November 2001 we were touring in Australia and we went into a little church in Brisbane. The preacher’s message was based on John 21. The message spoke to me especially when Jesus asks Peter, ‘Do you love me as much as these’ (referring to the fish Peter and his friends had just caught). I identified with Peter who was being asked to give up fishing. I felt I was being asked to put down my clubs.
Three months later I was driving to the Canadian Tour Qualifying Tournament when I heard a message on the radio quoting John 21.
"Again I felt the message speaking to me. I played in the tournament but I did not qualify. My heart wasn’t in the game anymore. I quit golf. With the encouragement of my father-in law I enrolled in New Orleans Theological Seminary. He too had been called to the ministry by John 21.”
(“Simon do you love Me more the these?”
“Yes Lord, You know that I love You.”
“Then feed My lambs.” John21:l5)
In August 2005, four months before Brad was to graduate, Hurricaine Katrina devastated New Orleans. With two children and Christina eight months pregnant, Brad borrowed a neighbor’s van and fled to Beatrice Alabama where they knew a pastor who took them in.
“We lost everything as our apartment was completely flooded. But God had spared our family. Then another kind of flood hit. I could not stop the flow of gifts of clothing, food and furniture that poured in on us. It still hasn’t subsided.
“When it was time for Christina to have our fourth child we moved to Bradenton, Florida to be close to the doctor who had delivered our other children. I took a job as student intern in evangelism and finished my final semester at the seminary on line. In December 2006 my classmates and I received our degrees. Later I became the voluntary chaplain to the Cincinnati Reds farm team then training in Sarasota.
“God has used everything in my life for His purposes.Golf had been my idol…now I’m pictured in golf magazines holding a Bible. It took a while for me to accept God’s forgiveness and to accept his grace. That has been huge for me.
“Tiger has become the king of golf. My notoriety as being the first to lose a national title to Tiger still brings invitations to speak at golf dinners and men’s retreats where I get to tell people about the King of Kings.”
Brad Zwetschke
Bradenton, Fl.
(In June 2008 Brad Zwetschke officially entered the U.S. Army as a chaplain.-Ed)
The year was 1991 and Brad Zwetschke was ranked number two behind Tiger in the U.S. Junior Amateur golf. In the championship match Brad was three up after five holes, and two up at the turn at Bay Hill in Orlando. It would be the first of many well publicized comebacks for Tiger who tied the match and defeated Brad on the first playoff hole.
“Coming out of school all I wanted to do was play golf and party. I lived the wild life,” says Brad.
Along the way he met Christina Mauldin, a preacher’s daughter from the South side of Chicago. Brad is also from Chicago. Within a year and a half they are married.
“She thought she was marrying a golf professional and I thought I was marrying an entertainer from Black Television.” (Christina had done a stint on the program Heart & Soul.)
“My wife is a strong Christian and my loyal supporter. She accompanied me on tour, which was arduous, lots of travel and expensive. Sometimes we slept in our van because we couldn’t afford the hotel prices.
“In November 2001 we were touring in Australia and we went into a little church in Brisbane. The preacher’s message was based on John 21. The message spoke to me especially when Jesus asks Peter, ‘Do you love me as much as these’ (referring to the fish Peter and his friends had just caught). I identified with Peter who was being asked to give up fishing. I felt I was being asked to put down my clubs.
Three months later I was driving to the Canadian Tour Qualifying Tournament when I heard a message on the radio quoting John 21.
"Again I felt the message speaking to me. I played in the tournament but I did not qualify. My heart wasn’t in the game anymore. I quit golf. With the encouragement of my father-in law I enrolled in New Orleans Theological Seminary. He too had been called to the ministry by John 21.”
(“Simon do you love Me more the these?”
“Yes Lord, You know that I love You.”
“Then feed My lambs.” John21:l5)
In August 2005, four months before Brad was to graduate, Hurricaine Katrina devastated New Orleans. With two children and Christina eight months pregnant, Brad borrowed a neighbor’s van and fled to Beatrice Alabama where they knew a pastor who took them in.
“We lost everything as our apartment was completely flooded. But God had spared our family. Then another kind of flood hit. I could not stop the flow of gifts of clothing, food and furniture that poured in on us. It still hasn’t subsided.
“When it was time for Christina to have our fourth child we moved to Bradenton, Florida to be close to the doctor who had delivered our other children. I took a job as student intern in evangelism and finished my final semester at the seminary on line. In December 2006 my classmates and I received our degrees. Later I became the voluntary chaplain to the Cincinnati Reds farm team then training in Sarasota.
“God has used everything in my life for His purposes.Golf had been my idol…now I’m pictured in golf magazines holding a Bible. It took a while for me to accept God’s forgiveness and to accept his grace. That has been huge for me.
“Tiger has become the king of golf. My notoriety as being the first to lose a national title to Tiger still brings invitations to speak at golf dinners and men’s retreats where I get to tell people about the King of Kings.”
Brad Zwetschke
Bradenton, Fl.
(In June 2008 Brad Zwetschke officially entered the U.S. Army as a chaplain.-Ed)
The Lost Book
My friend Janae is seeing her daughter off to school when she does a foolish thing. She places a small book on the bumper of her Suv while she helps her daughter Sidney into a friend’s vehicle who is the designated driver for the car pool this day. Janae tells herself she will remember to retrieve the book before driving off. Of course she forgets.
It isn’t until Janae returns home that she remembers the little book. Naturally it is no longer on the bumper. This book had been her companion since she received it as a gift a week earlier. She drives back over the route she had traveled that morning but there is no evidence of the little book.
At noon I am at my hairdresser’s. While Lisa is doing my hair she tells me that her husband Joe came by her shop earlier and dropped off a book he had found in the middle of Bahia Vista Road. When he saw this book in the middle of the road he just pulled over. Before he could get to it, two cars had run over it.”
The battered book is a copy of Joyce Meyers, The Secret Power of Speaking God’s Word.
“Joe really got into the book,” Lisa said, “particularly the chapter on anger. He has been angry with God all these years since the accident so it was good for him to read about that. Then he noticed the handwriting inside the front cover, ‘To Janae from Wendy,’ and brought the book here.
You are a Christian woman Deb do you know a woman named Janae?”
“I know a Wendy and a Janae. They both go to my church.”
I called Wendy on her cell phone and yes she had given a copy of the book to Janae. Wendy called Janae who then called us at the shop to confirm that she had lost the book while driving that morning.
Lisa gave me the book to return to Janae. On my way I stopped by The Living Word book store and purchased a new copy of Meyer’s book.
Janae inscribed the new copy, thanking Joe for finding and returning hers. I added, “Joe: I know God wanted you to have this book.”
Deborah Smith
Sarasota, Fl.
It isn’t until Janae returns home that she remembers the little book. Naturally it is no longer on the bumper. This book had been her companion since she received it as a gift a week earlier. She drives back over the route she had traveled that morning but there is no evidence of the little book.
At noon I am at my hairdresser’s. While Lisa is doing my hair she tells me that her husband Joe came by her shop earlier and dropped off a book he had found in the middle of Bahia Vista Road. When he saw this book in the middle of the road he just pulled over. Before he could get to it, two cars had run over it.”
The battered book is a copy of Joyce Meyers, The Secret Power of Speaking God’s Word.
“Joe really got into the book,” Lisa said, “particularly the chapter on anger. He has been angry with God all these years since the accident so it was good for him to read about that. Then he noticed the handwriting inside the front cover, ‘To Janae from Wendy,’ and brought the book here.
You are a Christian woman Deb do you know a woman named Janae?”
“I know a Wendy and a Janae. They both go to my church.”
I called Wendy on her cell phone and yes she had given a copy of the book to Janae. Wendy called Janae who then called us at the shop to confirm that she had lost the book while driving that morning.
Lisa gave me the book to return to Janae. On my way I stopped by The Living Word book store and purchased a new copy of Meyer’s book.
Janae inscribed the new copy, thanking Joe for finding and returning hers. I added, “Joe: I know God wanted you to have this book.”
Deborah Smith
Sarasota, Fl.
The Forked Tree
It started like any other day for Jay, an eight-year-old going on nine thank you, but what happened that afternoon would change his life in a flash.
Jay was growing up in a new subdivision in Woodhaven Woods, Michigan where his dad was serving as a minister. The homes were new and had flat back yards with no fences and all backed into a wood line fifty to seventy yards deep. It was a great place for an eight year old to grow up and play.
Most of the trees were hardwoods, like oak and maple, tall and straight. All except one as Jay remembers. That tree was forked about four feet up. One fork was badly decayed and hollow near its base while the other was solid and healthy.
Jay remembers the afternoon was very windy, lots of threatening clouds but it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t raining. He was standing in his yard when he challenged God. He doesn’t know what prompted him. He just did. What goes through and eight year olds mind anyway? Jay tells it this way.
“ I saw the trees swaying and said, ‘Ok God. You knock over a tree and I will never doubt you again.’ Within seconds there was a loud crack. Even though
I was several hundred yards away but I could see it was the forked tree that had fallen. Some parents gathered around the forked tree and I went over to see. It was then I saw that the solid half of the forked tree had cracked all the way to the ground and toppled. Surprisingly, the decayed half was still standing. You could look right threw and see light on the other side. I don’t know what was holding that tree up. It looked as if it would fall over at any minute so the parents were keeping the children at a safe distance.
I thought about it later. God knocked over the strong but held up the weak. You could read into that. The weak half of that tree never did fall on its own. Some men cut it down later to insure it wouldn’t fall on anyone.
I didn’t tell anyone about this experience for the longest time. I guess I thought that was between God and me. Even now, decades later I have only shared this experience with a few others for fear of being seen as bragging or worse. But there is no doubt in my mind that God felled the strong half of that tree that day.
Jay Hessler
Sarasota, Fl.
Jay was growing up in a new subdivision in Woodhaven Woods, Michigan where his dad was serving as a minister. The homes were new and had flat back yards with no fences and all backed into a wood line fifty to seventy yards deep. It was a great place for an eight year old to grow up and play.
Most of the trees were hardwoods, like oak and maple, tall and straight. All except one as Jay remembers. That tree was forked about four feet up. One fork was badly decayed and hollow near its base while the other was solid and healthy.
Jay remembers the afternoon was very windy, lots of threatening clouds but it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t raining. He was standing in his yard when he challenged God. He doesn’t know what prompted him. He just did. What goes through and eight year olds mind anyway? Jay tells it this way.
“ I saw the trees swaying and said, ‘Ok God. You knock over a tree and I will never doubt you again.’ Within seconds there was a loud crack. Even though
I was several hundred yards away but I could see it was the forked tree that had fallen. Some parents gathered around the forked tree and I went over to see. It was then I saw that the solid half of the forked tree had cracked all the way to the ground and toppled. Surprisingly, the decayed half was still standing. You could look right threw and see light on the other side. I don’t know what was holding that tree up. It looked as if it would fall over at any minute so the parents were keeping the children at a safe distance.
I thought about it later. God knocked over the strong but held up the weak. You could read into that. The weak half of that tree never did fall on its own. Some men cut it down later to insure it wouldn’t fall on anyone.
I didn’t tell anyone about this experience for the longest time. I guess I thought that was between God and me. Even now, decades later I have only shared this experience with a few others for fear of being seen as bragging or worse. But there is no doubt in my mind that God felled the strong half of that tree that day.
Jay Hessler
Sarasota, Fl.
"Stop and Ask for Ellen"
I was returning from my college reunion and I was heading south on Interstate 75 when I distinctly heard a voice in my head.
“Stop at the next Cracker Barrel and ask for Ellen.”
“Is that you speaking Lord?”
Again I hear, “Stop at the next Cracker Barrel and ask for Ellen.”
It wasn’t long before I saw a billboard telling me there was a Cracker Barrel at the next exit. I turned off. I asked the hostess if Ellen was on today.
”There is no Ellen working in this restaurant,” the Hostess said.
It was nearing the dinner hour so I decided to stay and eat. When the waitress brought my food I asked her if an Ellen had ever worked at this Cracker Barrel.
“Oh Ellen works in the gift shop,” she said.
I hastily finished my dinner and went directly to the gift shop. There was an older woman standing behind the counter.
“Are you Ellen?”
“No,” the woman said, “ Ellen left a short while ago. She has problems you know.”
The restaurant couldn’t give out an address or telephone for Ellen of course so all I could do was leave her an encouraging note with my E-mail and telephone number.
I never heard from Ellen. I should have gone to the gift shop before I ate my dinner. Somehow I feel I let God down.
Dave Coleman
Bradenton, Fl.
“Stop at the next Cracker Barrel and ask for Ellen.”
“Is that you speaking Lord?”
Again I hear, “Stop at the next Cracker Barrel and ask for Ellen.”
It wasn’t long before I saw a billboard telling me there was a Cracker Barrel at the next exit. I turned off. I asked the hostess if Ellen was on today.
”There is no Ellen working in this restaurant,” the Hostess said.
It was nearing the dinner hour so I decided to stay and eat. When the waitress brought my food I asked her if an Ellen had ever worked at this Cracker Barrel.
“Oh Ellen works in the gift shop,” she said.
I hastily finished my dinner and went directly to the gift shop. There was an older woman standing behind the counter.
“Are you Ellen?”
“No,” the woman said, “ Ellen left a short while ago. She has problems you know.”
The restaurant couldn’t give out an address or telephone for Ellen of course so all I could do was leave her an encouraging note with my E-mail and telephone number.
I never heard from Ellen. I should have gone to the gift shop before I ate my dinner. Somehow I feel I let God down.
Dave Coleman
Bradenton, Fl.
Shift Lanes
“Occasionally I see reports of happenings that can not be humanly explained-of visitors unexpectedly appearing to assist in times of crisis, or warning of impending danger. These can only be explained as the Intervention of God’s angels.”
Bill Graham, Hope For Each Day
When I was 19 years old I lived in Tracy, California. One night I was out with some friends in Stockton, about 20 miles away. I was driving home alone about 2 am on old Highway 50. The highway splits into two high narrow bridges over the San Joaquin River, one for north bound and one for south bound traffic. The bridges are steep so that you can’t see the other side until you get to the top.
There was no traffic on the road at that hour and I was traveling the speed limit. I was in the left hand lane going up the south-bound bridge when, for some unexplained reason, I steered into the right hand lane. A moment later I was in the middle of the bridge when out of nowhere, a car came speeding the wrong way in the lane I had just left.
If I hadn’t changed lanes there would have been a head on collision in the middle of that high narrow bridge. There was nowhere to go except over the edge into the river below. I know that I would not have survived the crash or the river.
Decades later I still shiver at the thought of what could have happened that night. There was no reason for me to change lanes. I was saved by an angel that night, I’m absolutely sure.
“For he shall give his angels charge over you,
to keep you in all your ways.” Psalm 91:11
Mary (Kiser) Bartlein
Panther Ridge,
Manatee County, Fl.
Bill Graham, Hope For Each Day
When I was 19 years old I lived in Tracy, California. One night I was out with some friends in Stockton, about 20 miles away. I was driving home alone about 2 am on old Highway 50. The highway splits into two high narrow bridges over the San Joaquin River, one for north bound and one for south bound traffic. The bridges are steep so that you can’t see the other side until you get to the top.
There was no traffic on the road at that hour and I was traveling the speed limit. I was in the left hand lane going up the south-bound bridge when, for some unexplained reason, I steered into the right hand lane. A moment later I was in the middle of the bridge when out of nowhere, a car came speeding the wrong way in the lane I had just left.
If I hadn’t changed lanes there would have been a head on collision in the middle of that high narrow bridge. There was nowhere to go except over the edge into the river below. I know that I would not have survived the crash or the river.
Decades later I still shiver at the thought of what could have happened that night. There was no reason for me to change lanes. I was saved by an angel that night, I’m absolutely sure.
“For he shall give his angels charge over you,
to keep you in all your ways.” Psalm 91:11
Mary (Kiser) Bartlein
Panther Ridge,
Manatee County, Fl.
Ran Out of Gas
I had gone to the mall for a job interview. I spotted a man pushing a broom when I entered and I figured he must know where the main office is located. He was very pleasant and appeared to know a lot about this mall.
During my interview for a management position I mentioned the nice man I encountered pushing the broom. Guess I thought I would put in a good word for him since he showed kindness to me. After I described him they smiled and said, “ Oh that’s Jeff, he owns this mall. That is one of the ways he gets to talk with the customers.”
I was hired as a manager of that mall.
After that Jeff and I kept bumping in to each other. He was always cordial and we would have friendly albeit brief conversations. Several months went by and then I learned that Jeff had sold this mall for something around $29,000,000. Shortly after this the new owners gave me an envelope to deliver to Jeff’s home.
I wasn’t surprised to find that his home was a mansion right on the water but I was surprised when I pressed the front door bell and it was Jeff who opened the door. He greeted me warmly and invited me into his home. He opened the envelope and
told me that it was a sizeable check representing his part of the commission of the sale of the mall. He or someone in his family was a licensed real estate broker. Then he shared with me that his family foundation was inundated by requests for money. He said he was really looking “to find something to give to that is making a difference.” Since I didn’t immediately respond he said, “If you run into any, let me know.” I said I would.
A couple of years went by and I was going down a back road near the coast when I see a guy standing by his car on the side of the road. It is Jeff. He has run out of gas and I offer to take him to the nearest filling station. It turns out to be some distance before we reach a station. We chat.
I ask him if he is still looking for an organization to give to that is making a difference. He asks what I have in mind? I tell him about a new organization called Gifts From God, which is feeding the hungry and helping families needing furniture or providing a car free to struggling single moms. By the time we are back to his car with a can of gasoline he has agreed to come to my office and meet with Mike Butterfield, the president of Gifts from God. From that meeting came a much needed seed grant from Jeff’s family foundation.
A year later I am driving on Laurel Road in Venice and I am rounding a curve and there is Jeff standing by his car on the side of the road. Yep! He was out of gas again.
“You have come to my rescue again, it must be time for another grant to Gifts From God,” he grins.
It was. Mike had called me a few days ago with a bleak financial report and said we need another grant from Jeff’s foundation. And here God puts Jeff and I together again. Who else could orchestrate such timely chance meetings like this?
We received the second grant which I call truly a gift from God.
Lloyd Keith
Osprey, Florida
During my interview for a management position I mentioned the nice man I encountered pushing the broom. Guess I thought I would put in a good word for him since he showed kindness to me. After I described him they smiled and said, “ Oh that’s Jeff, he owns this mall. That is one of the ways he gets to talk with the customers.”
I was hired as a manager of that mall.
After that Jeff and I kept bumping in to each other. He was always cordial and we would have friendly albeit brief conversations. Several months went by and then I learned that Jeff had sold this mall for something around $29,000,000. Shortly after this the new owners gave me an envelope to deliver to Jeff’s home.
I wasn’t surprised to find that his home was a mansion right on the water but I was surprised when I pressed the front door bell and it was Jeff who opened the door. He greeted me warmly and invited me into his home. He opened the envelope and
told me that it was a sizeable check representing his part of the commission of the sale of the mall. He or someone in his family was a licensed real estate broker. Then he shared with me that his family foundation was inundated by requests for money. He said he was really looking “to find something to give to that is making a difference.” Since I didn’t immediately respond he said, “If you run into any, let me know.” I said I would.
A couple of years went by and I was going down a back road near the coast when I see a guy standing by his car on the side of the road. It is Jeff. He has run out of gas and I offer to take him to the nearest filling station. It turns out to be some distance before we reach a station. We chat.
I ask him if he is still looking for an organization to give to that is making a difference. He asks what I have in mind? I tell him about a new organization called Gifts From God, which is feeding the hungry and helping families needing furniture or providing a car free to struggling single moms. By the time we are back to his car with a can of gasoline he has agreed to come to my office and meet with Mike Butterfield, the president of Gifts from God. From that meeting came a much needed seed grant from Jeff’s family foundation.
A year later I am driving on Laurel Road in Venice and I am rounding a curve and there is Jeff standing by his car on the side of the road. Yep! He was out of gas again.
“You have come to my rescue again, it must be time for another grant to Gifts From God,” he grins.
It was. Mike had called me a few days ago with a bleak financial report and said we need another grant from Jeff’s foundation. And here God puts Jeff and I together again. Who else could orchestrate such timely chance meetings like this?
We received the second grant which I call truly a gift from God.
Lloyd Keith
Osprey, Florida
Pray Specifically
She is introduced as Ms Julie. You don’t use last names when you are running from an abuser. She rode a bus to Sarasota with one suitcase and the clothes on her back. She had been directed to a shelter for abused women and given a meal. The next morning she went looking for employment.
“I was able to wait on tables and within a couple of weeks I had enough tips to rent a small apartment. What I really needed was a car to go on interviews and find a better job. So I prayed very specifically for a four-door Camry (she had had one once) so I could take people to church with me. I wanted a clean beige or brown car.
“A few days later I received a call from a caring organization that donates used cars to needy people. They had heard of my plight and called to say they had a car for me.
“When I arrived to pickup my car I was told the donor had taken it to a car wash. A few minutes later a car entered the parking lot and I knew it was a gift from God. It was a sparkling beige four-door Camry and it was clean.”
Ms Julie
Sarasota County
“I was able to wait on tables and within a couple of weeks I had enough tips to rent a small apartment. What I really needed was a car to go on interviews and find a better job. So I prayed very specifically for a four-door Camry (she had had one once) so I could take people to church with me. I wanted a clean beige or brown car.
“A few days later I received a call from a caring organization that donates used cars to needy people. They had heard of my plight and called to say they had a car for me.
“When I arrived to pickup my car I was told the donor had taken it to a car wash. A few minutes later a car entered the parking lot and I knew it was a gift from God. It was a sparkling beige four-door Camry and it was clean.”
Ms Julie
Sarasota County
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Dad and Baseball
The Phone rings
" Hello. "
" Hi son."
" Hi dad. "
" How ya doing?"
" Good dad, How you doing?"
" Oh Ok, thought I'd call in my lottery numbers."
This is a typical call from dad. He's been calling me his lottery numbers to play twice a week for ten years because they don’t have a lottery in Alabama.
" Got em, I'll get those numbers for ya dad."
" Geeze thanks so much Son, if you ever need anything let me know. I got that new TV you know, I've been watching my favorite baseball team, wow, you should see my TV, when they have the camera behind home plate and the pitcher throws the ball.. I duck.. It looks like he threw it right at me. "
" That’s funny dad "
" Are you still going to those meetings?"
" Oh yeah dad, every day."
" Still every day, how long has it been now?
"Just over ten years dad."
" My, that’s amazing , I'm proud of you. If I can help with anything just let me know, ok?"
" Ok dad."
" Well I got to go now, thanks for getting the lotto numbers,love ya son.."
" Love ya dad "
My story is your average tale of the downward spiral of chemical addiction and alcohol, and the upward climb back towards normalcy. Millions of people share the same story. I started with pot and beer in early adolescence, by late teens it was hard liquor and narcotics, by 22 I was smoking crack cocaine every day and was in total denial of having a problem. I was a mess.
Its hard to briefly describe the damage… physically, psychologically, emotionally, spiritually, socially, economically, a ruined marriage, estranged from my baby son and step daughter, being unemployable.
On 9-10-1993 I surrendered to the AA program and slowly worked my way back. By the grace of God and a Christian sponsor who gently helped me turn back to the Lord, I recovered.
I’ve come to realize that I didn’t get my old life back that I thought I was going to in the beginning of recovery- rather I’ve found working a recovery program has enabled me to start becoming a totally different person- the one God meant me to be.
Obviously, living sober has its benefits; my family relationships have been repaired, I have a good job and I was able to obtain full custody of my son in that first year. What a blessing to see him grow into a wonderful young man free from the social trappings I fell into at his age.
I married a beautiful woman. She's in recovery also. We've built a life together that is more rewarding than I could have dared imagine. We’ve purchased a home, are active members in our church and are still very involved in the recovery community.
We work hard on our relationship. Both being in recovery means we perhaps have additional challenges. What successful marriage doesn't have challenges?
We sought out a Christian marriage counselor. During one of the counseling sessions the three of us were discussing- go figure- recovery and the counselor asked me; “So what in your childhood was so terrible that it made you turn to drugs and alcohol.”
WHAT? That was all I could say. What?
I had a great childhood… couldn’t remember anything that was all that bad. Then it happened. It just popped into my head.
When I was six I wanted to join little league baseball. I brought home the permission slips and brochure from school. I fancied myself becoming a great baseball player someday. My parents bought me a glove, bat, ball, and the uniform with cap and I was assigned to a team.
I especially remember going to that first practice, and how my dad drove me to the ball field…well, actually he only drove me to within seeing distance of the ball field. He pulled the car over to the curb explaining that he was dropping me off here and that I was to run across the block to the ball field and he would be right here to pick me up after the practice. I was confused but this was my turn to play and without any hesitation I was out of that car and running towared the ball field.
I went to a few practice sessions like that, each time my dad dropping me off a block away and being there to pick me up afterwards.
I recall one practice the ball coming my way in right field and not catching it like I was supposed to…scrambling, running to the missed ball while the other kids screamed, “throw the ball,” throwing the ball as hard as I could and seeing it fall to the ground only half way to the nearest teammate and rolling to a stop while the batter was running the basses and everyone was screaming at me.
I remember that first real baseball game getting dropped off a block away just like practice and sitting on the bench until my first chance at bat. I was thinking this is it. I am gonna hit a home run like Babe Ruth. Stepping up to the plate I hear the catcher say; "he's a whiffer, he can’t hit, strike him out" and a lump forming in my throat and tears forming after the first strike and not bothering to look back towards my team for support after the second strike because I knew my dad wasn’t there. When I struck out it seamed the whole world was screaming names at me, even my teammates. I was all by myself. The other kids' dads were there but mine wasn’t. Nobody stood up for me. I remember walking back to the bench with my head down, sitting and staring at the ground.
I made up my mind I was never gonna hear atta-boy from my dad because he wasn’t there, and I was never going to hear if I needed anything he'd be there for me. I made up my mind that I was gonna quit baseball. And that’s what I did.
Dad drove me to the coach’s house and he made me take the uniform up to the door and quit the team while he waited in the car.
I was sitting there in the counsellors office with my wife, tears rolling down my cheeks, as I relived feelings I had buried as a six-year-old. The counselor asked, "So what are you going to do about it now?" We agreed taking time to process was reasonable.
Some days passed. How could I start healing? Dad and mom have been divorced 30 years now. Dad has lived in a mobile home in Alabama for 25 years. He is 77. How could I justify calling dad up and saying; "Guess what I just remembered what you did to me 36 years ago?" What would that accomplish? Would I really feel better bringing it up? Would he remember? Would I be creating more hurt?
Let me say here there is no way I blame my addictions due to this one thing. There are many reasons for my addictions and alcoholism.
I began wondering about all those phone conversations with dad these past ten years. How could my dad, who talks to me all the time about baseball, never misses a game on TV, not participate in baseball with me when I was a kid? It didn’t make sense.
I call my brother in Columbus and ask him.
He replies, “dad never mentions baseball to me, I don’t think he likes sports. "
I call my sister, same response - dad never mentions baseball to her.
So I ask my mom, “why dad didn’t do baseball with me.” She guessed maybe he didn’t want to be involved with the other fathers. She was sure it didn’t have anything to do with me.
So how was I going heal from a 36 year old hurt, as far as I could tell, was due to dad trying to avoid some kind of social interaction with other men
I thought, perhaps it is too late to try to heal by talking with dad but maybe I could help my son, who then was 16 and a sophomore in high school.
I had made many mistakes raising my son especially in his early life as my brain wasn’t all that clear even after I was sober. Maybe I can make sure my son didn’t find himself at 40 years old crying in a counseling session and wondering what his dad had done to him.
So every chance I had I told my son how much I loved him, how proud of him I was and that he could depend on his dad. I began wondering if he was getting it. Was he hearing me?
That’s when it happened. I heard in my mind all those phone conversations between me and my dad and what I heard wasn’t conversations about baseball. What I heard at that moment was the other part where for ten years my dad was saying,"Son I'm so proud of what you’ve been doing with your life… Son, if I can help you with anything just let me know… Son I love you…"
My son wasn't the one not hearing. It was my dad’s son who wasn’t hearing. I was the one with the hardened heart
Thirty six years ago a six-year- old boy made up his mind he was never going to hear his father’s praise, would never be able to depend on his dad and was determined he wasn’t going to feel his dad’s love.
The healing I neeeded wasn’t from what my father did. The healing I needed was from what I did to myself-that little boy-a life time ago… I made a decision back then, and the result was that I stopped hearing. Even cold sober for ten years and in my right mind I was deaf to what my father had been saying.
Finally I heard all those times my father said, "I'm proud of you, I'm there for you , I love you."
I cried for three days.
I was crying with joy because I heard him…and I was crying with some sorrow that I hadn’t heard him for so long… and all these emotions were flooding through me… and I felt elated.
I called my wife to tell her and left her a message and I called my counselor and I think he was crying with me as I explained my revelation.
He asked, "did you call your dad?"
"Oh no…no… I couldn’t possibly call dad"
“You know you have to,” he advised.
It took me three hours to get myself together to make that call to dad. I didn't get into the baseball thing with him. Between sobs I just explained that I now understand and know thathe loves me, he's proud of me and would do anything for me.
After a few days I thought, wow, if I cut off my ability to hear my earthly father like that- how much have I cut off from hearing my heavenly father? How about you, been hearing God lately?
It has been a little over five years now. Dad still calls in his numbers twice a week, I never hear him mention baseball anymore. You know, I'm not really sure if dad even likes baseball
Patrick Smith
Sarasota, Fl.
" Hello. "
" Hi son."
" Hi dad. "
" How ya doing?"
" Good dad, How you doing?"
" Oh Ok, thought I'd call in my lottery numbers."
This is a typical call from dad. He's been calling me his lottery numbers to play twice a week for ten years because they don’t have a lottery in Alabama.
" Got em, I'll get those numbers for ya dad."
" Geeze thanks so much Son, if you ever need anything let me know. I got that new TV you know, I've been watching my favorite baseball team, wow, you should see my TV, when they have the camera behind home plate and the pitcher throws the ball.. I duck.. It looks like he threw it right at me. "
" That’s funny dad "
" Are you still going to those meetings?"
" Oh yeah dad, every day."
" Still every day, how long has it been now?
"Just over ten years dad."
" My, that’s amazing , I'm proud of you. If I can help with anything just let me know, ok?"
" Ok dad."
" Well I got to go now, thanks for getting the lotto numbers,love ya son.."
" Love ya dad "
My story is your average tale of the downward spiral of chemical addiction and alcohol, and the upward climb back towards normalcy. Millions of people share the same story. I started with pot and beer in early adolescence, by late teens it was hard liquor and narcotics, by 22 I was smoking crack cocaine every day and was in total denial of having a problem. I was a mess.
Its hard to briefly describe the damage… physically, psychologically, emotionally, spiritually, socially, economically, a ruined marriage, estranged from my baby son and step daughter, being unemployable.
On 9-10-1993 I surrendered to the AA program and slowly worked my way back. By the grace of God and a Christian sponsor who gently helped me turn back to the Lord, I recovered.
I’ve come to realize that I didn’t get my old life back that I thought I was going to in the beginning of recovery- rather I’ve found working a recovery program has enabled me to start becoming a totally different person- the one God meant me to be.
Obviously, living sober has its benefits; my family relationships have been repaired, I have a good job and I was able to obtain full custody of my son in that first year. What a blessing to see him grow into a wonderful young man free from the social trappings I fell into at his age.
I married a beautiful woman. She's in recovery also. We've built a life together that is more rewarding than I could have dared imagine. We’ve purchased a home, are active members in our church and are still very involved in the recovery community.
We work hard on our relationship. Both being in recovery means we perhaps have additional challenges. What successful marriage doesn't have challenges?
We sought out a Christian marriage counselor. During one of the counseling sessions the three of us were discussing- go figure- recovery and the counselor asked me; “So what in your childhood was so terrible that it made you turn to drugs and alcohol.”
WHAT? That was all I could say. What?
I had a great childhood… couldn’t remember anything that was all that bad. Then it happened. It just popped into my head.
When I was six I wanted to join little league baseball. I brought home the permission slips and brochure from school. I fancied myself becoming a great baseball player someday. My parents bought me a glove, bat, ball, and the uniform with cap and I was assigned to a team.
I especially remember going to that first practice, and how my dad drove me to the ball field…well, actually he only drove me to within seeing distance of the ball field. He pulled the car over to the curb explaining that he was dropping me off here and that I was to run across the block to the ball field and he would be right here to pick me up after the practice. I was confused but this was my turn to play and without any hesitation I was out of that car and running towared the ball field.
I went to a few practice sessions like that, each time my dad dropping me off a block away and being there to pick me up afterwards.
I recall one practice the ball coming my way in right field and not catching it like I was supposed to…scrambling, running to the missed ball while the other kids screamed, “throw the ball,” throwing the ball as hard as I could and seeing it fall to the ground only half way to the nearest teammate and rolling to a stop while the batter was running the basses and everyone was screaming at me.
I remember that first real baseball game getting dropped off a block away just like practice and sitting on the bench until my first chance at bat. I was thinking this is it. I am gonna hit a home run like Babe Ruth. Stepping up to the plate I hear the catcher say; "he's a whiffer, he can’t hit, strike him out" and a lump forming in my throat and tears forming after the first strike and not bothering to look back towards my team for support after the second strike because I knew my dad wasn’t there. When I struck out it seamed the whole world was screaming names at me, even my teammates. I was all by myself. The other kids' dads were there but mine wasn’t. Nobody stood up for me. I remember walking back to the bench with my head down, sitting and staring at the ground.
I made up my mind I was never gonna hear atta-boy from my dad because he wasn’t there, and I was never going to hear if I needed anything he'd be there for me. I made up my mind that I was gonna quit baseball. And that’s what I did.
Dad drove me to the coach’s house and he made me take the uniform up to the door and quit the team while he waited in the car.
I was sitting there in the counsellors office with my wife, tears rolling down my cheeks, as I relived feelings I had buried as a six-year-old. The counselor asked, "So what are you going to do about it now?" We agreed taking time to process was reasonable.
Some days passed. How could I start healing? Dad and mom have been divorced 30 years now. Dad has lived in a mobile home in Alabama for 25 years. He is 77. How could I justify calling dad up and saying; "Guess what I just remembered what you did to me 36 years ago?" What would that accomplish? Would I really feel better bringing it up? Would he remember? Would I be creating more hurt?
Let me say here there is no way I blame my addictions due to this one thing. There are many reasons for my addictions and alcoholism.
I began wondering about all those phone conversations with dad these past ten years. How could my dad, who talks to me all the time about baseball, never misses a game on TV, not participate in baseball with me when I was a kid? It didn’t make sense.
I call my brother in Columbus and ask him.
He replies, “dad never mentions baseball to me, I don’t think he likes sports. "
I call my sister, same response - dad never mentions baseball to her.
So I ask my mom, “why dad didn’t do baseball with me.” She guessed maybe he didn’t want to be involved with the other fathers. She was sure it didn’t have anything to do with me.
So how was I going heal from a 36 year old hurt, as far as I could tell, was due to dad trying to avoid some kind of social interaction with other men
I thought, perhaps it is too late to try to heal by talking with dad but maybe I could help my son, who then was 16 and a sophomore in high school.
I had made many mistakes raising my son especially in his early life as my brain wasn’t all that clear even after I was sober. Maybe I can make sure my son didn’t find himself at 40 years old crying in a counseling session and wondering what his dad had done to him.
So every chance I had I told my son how much I loved him, how proud of him I was and that he could depend on his dad. I began wondering if he was getting it. Was he hearing me?
That’s when it happened. I heard in my mind all those phone conversations between me and my dad and what I heard wasn’t conversations about baseball. What I heard at that moment was the other part where for ten years my dad was saying,"Son I'm so proud of what you’ve been doing with your life… Son, if I can help you with anything just let me know… Son I love you…"
My son wasn't the one not hearing. It was my dad’s son who wasn’t hearing. I was the one with the hardened heart
Thirty six years ago a six-year- old boy made up his mind he was never going to hear his father’s praise, would never be able to depend on his dad and was determined he wasn’t going to feel his dad’s love.
The healing I neeeded wasn’t from what my father did. The healing I needed was from what I did to myself-that little boy-a life time ago… I made a decision back then, and the result was that I stopped hearing. Even cold sober for ten years and in my right mind I was deaf to what my father had been saying.
Finally I heard all those times my father said, "I'm proud of you, I'm there for you , I love you."
I cried for three days.
I was crying with joy because I heard him…and I was crying with some sorrow that I hadn’t heard him for so long… and all these emotions were flooding through me… and I felt elated.
I called my wife to tell her and left her a message and I called my counselor and I think he was crying with me as I explained my revelation.
He asked, "did you call your dad?"
"Oh no…no… I couldn’t possibly call dad"
“You know you have to,” he advised.
It took me three hours to get myself together to make that call to dad. I didn't get into the baseball thing with him. Between sobs I just explained that I now understand and know thathe loves me, he's proud of me and would do anything for me.
After a few days I thought, wow, if I cut off my ability to hear my earthly father like that- how much have I cut off from hearing my heavenly father? How about you, been hearing God lately?
It has been a little over five years now. Dad still calls in his numbers twice a week, I never hear him mention baseball anymore. You know, I'm not really sure if dad even likes baseball
Patrick Smith
Sarasota, Fl.
Moving to Florida
It was clear from the beginning that God’s hand was in our decision to relocate to Florida. The purpose was to take care of our aging parents who had permanently moved to Sarasota.
The problems were we had a business and a house to sell in New York state and I hated Florida. Furthermore I had a business that I loved in my home, taking care of children, which would have to be closed.
Eighteen years of accumulation of living in one place had to be sold as we were not taking all this to Florida with us. We had to pare down from a 6 bedroom, three story house to a smaller 2 or 3 bedroom bungalow.
God is good. The business sold quickly and several garage sales relieved us of a multitude of our "treasures". Now it was time to sell the house.
I was leaving the house I had dreamed of all my life. I had said, "just bury me in the back yard and I will be happy forever.” Until the day I actually left my friends said, "she will never go through with it," because they knew how much I loved where I lived and the home I lived in.
Why then was God calling me to move on? How could I endure such a transplant from a place I loved with all my heart to a place I hated? It is called a leap of faith. I bargained with God. I prayed and said "I am honoring our parents as you have instructed in the Bible and you know the place I am leaving, somehow dear God please make it right for me so I can have a proper attitude to do what I have to do in Florida."
One night just before I was falling asleep God spoke to me in unmistakable voice. I shot upright in bed and He said to me, "Live by the water and you will be all right.” From that day forward I never faltered for one minute. We placed our house on the market. It sold within two weeks and we were on our way.
Many things have affirmed God’s hand on our lives as a result of our decision to be faithful to God’s call to honor our parents. I have never regretted it for one day and praise God for his mercy and kindness to see us through the tough times we have had. We have been blessed with the most wonderful church for worship and fellowship.
Having lived by the water for 15 years God was totally right and I have been all right.
Sue Tholken
Siesta Key, Fl
The problems were we had a business and a house to sell in New York state and I hated Florida. Furthermore I had a business that I loved in my home, taking care of children, which would have to be closed.
Eighteen years of accumulation of living in one place had to be sold as we were not taking all this to Florida with us. We had to pare down from a 6 bedroom, three story house to a smaller 2 or 3 bedroom bungalow.
God is good. The business sold quickly and several garage sales relieved us of a multitude of our "treasures". Now it was time to sell the house.
I was leaving the house I had dreamed of all my life. I had said, "just bury me in the back yard and I will be happy forever.” Until the day I actually left my friends said, "she will never go through with it," because they knew how much I loved where I lived and the home I lived in.
Why then was God calling me to move on? How could I endure such a transplant from a place I loved with all my heart to a place I hated? It is called a leap of faith. I bargained with God. I prayed and said "I am honoring our parents as you have instructed in the Bible and you know the place I am leaving, somehow dear God please make it right for me so I can have a proper attitude to do what I have to do in Florida."
One night just before I was falling asleep God spoke to me in unmistakable voice. I shot upright in bed and He said to me, "Live by the water and you will be all right.” From that day forward I never faltered for one minute. We placed our house on the market. It sold within two weeks and we were on our way.
Many things have affirmed God’s hand on our lives as a result of our decision to be faithful to God’s call to honor our parents. I have never regretted it for one day and praise God for his mercy and kindness to see us through the tough times we have had. We have been blessed with the most wonderful church for worship and fellowship.
Having lived by the water for 15 years God was totally right and I have been all right.
Sue Tholken
Siesta Key, Fl
Making Plans and Taking Steps
I began preaching when I was twenty years old in a little church in Neapolis, Ohio. I was married that same year. Marilyn and I thought we would stay in that town all of our lives.
It was our hometown, our children were born there and our parents lived nearby. I said, “ I will never live in the city.” Be careful with the “never’s.”
In 1964 the Elders from North Highlands Church of Christ on Archer Avenue in Fort Wayne were determined that we were to come to this church. We prayed over it and felt God’s call, so we moved to Fort Wayne.
The Church flourished and grew and helped spawned Christ Church in Georgetown. We soon had outgrown our building so we made plans to build a million dollar building in the suburbs of Fort Wayne: North Highlands Community.
We went to a bank that promised financing, we had plans drawn and we held a groundbreaking ceremony with the mayor there. There was even a picture in the newspaper and a contractor on the site. That year, 1973, was a severe downturn of the economy. When we went to the bank to obtain our loan for 800 thousand dollars we were told the money is no longer available. What do you do?
We had made plans and promises. What was God thinking? What did God want us to do?
I said, “We are going to prayer.” I had heard about early morning praying in Korea. “we're going to go to prayer at 5:30 in the morning. and we're going to pray until we get an answer.”
That went on for six weeks. You know how early 5:30 in the morning is when you start praying at that hour for six weeks, seven mornings a week? I'm a morning person but I was never consistently up that many mornings, going to bed later every night.
One morning following prayer, I was with a group of pastors who heard the mayor of our city, Ivan Lebamoff , speak and challenge each of us to look at the downtown area of Fort Wayne, where everyone was leaving at that time in 1973. The mayor urged us to look at the downtown as a place of potential, of opportunity. God laid it on my heart to remember the empty church building at the corner of Broadway and Wayne, which had been the old Wayne Street Methodist Church.
That morning I went to that building, opened the door, went in, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There before me was the floor plan that we were going to build and still intact since1871. It was constructed of sturdy oak, had stained glass, a pipe
organ, a wood floor gymnasium, and a commercial kitchen. Altogether it was 48,00 square feet of usable building. For two hours I walked around in there with unbelief, arguing with God, saying, this can't be, how can we do this? I went home and I couldn't talk. Marilyn thought I had been in an some sort of accident.
That night as Marilyn and I walked I said, “Honey, I've dreamed a dream or seen a vision.”
After I shared with her my amazing discovery she said, “Bob I told you two weeks ago we should buy that building when we went past it.”
I hadn’t heard her but God did and the Broadway Christian Church was born.
About eighty families, approximately 300 people came with us from the suburbs to the city. The people who came interestingly enough were mostly the ones who came to Christ during my nine years at North Highlands. Our first service at Broadway Christian was held on January 6, 1974.
I began preaching on discipleship and what it means to seriously follow Jesus. I preached two and a half years on that theme. I preached for seven consecutive Sundays on repentance. I had never done that before in my life.
On one of those Sunday mornings our Church School superintendent came with his wife at his side weeping and he confessed he was a closet alcoholic. His Sunday School class with an elder leading them surrounded that man and vowed to stay with him until he was sober. That morning was a high water mark spiritually for the people knew then it was a safe place to confess sins.
I am retired from Broadway Christian now but we still live in Fort Wayne most of the year. I look back over 28 years at not only the growth in numbers (2,000 people and five services in two locations) but the organizations and churches that grew out of that one as we tried to be good disciples to our neighborhood and beyond.
It is obvious now what happened back in 1973 when the bank failed to give us a promised loan. God saved us from ourselves.
“A man’s heart devises his way; but the Lord directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
Pastor Bob Yawberg
Trailor Esates
Bradenton, Fl.
It was our hometown, our children were born there and our parents lived nearby. I said, “ I will never live in the city.” Be careful with the “never’s.”
In 1964 the Elders from North Highlands Church of Christ on Archer Avenue in Fort Wayne were determined that we were to come to this church. We prayed over it and felt God’s call, so we moved to Fort Wayne.
The Church flourished and grew and helped spawned Christ Church in Georgetown. We soon had outgrown our building so we made plans to build a million dollar building in the suburbs of Fort Wayne: North Highlands Community.
We went to a bank that promised financing, we had plans drawn and we held a groundbreaking ceremony with the mayor there. There was even a picture in the newspaper and a contractor on the site. That year, 1973, was a severe downturn of the economy. When we went to the bank to obtain our loan for 800 thousand dollars we were told the money is no longer available. What do you do?
We had made plans and promises. What was God thinking? What did God want us to do?
I said, “We are going to prayer.” I had heard about early morning praying in Korea. “we're going to go to prayer at 5:30 in the morning. and we're going to pray until we get an answer.”
That went on for six weeks. You know how early 5:30 in the morning is when you start praying at that hour for six weeks, seven mornings a week? I'm a morning person but I was never consistently up that many mornings, going to bed later every night.
One morning following prayer, I was with a group of pastors who heard the mayor of our city, Ivan Lebamoff , speak and challenge each of us to look at the downtown area of Fort Wayne, where everyone was leaving at that time in 1973. The mayor urged us to look at the downtown as a place of potential, of opportunity. God laid it on my heart to remember the empty church building at the corner of Broadway and Wayne, which had been the old Wayne Street Methodist Church.
That morning I went to that building, opened the door, went in, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There before me was the floor plan that we were going to build and still intact since1871. It was constructed of sturdy oak, had stained glass, a pipe
organ, a wood floor gymnasium, and a commercial kitchen. Altogether it was 48,00 square feet of usable building. For two hours I walked around in there with unbelief, arguing with God, saying, this can't be, how can we do this? I went home and I couldn't talk. Marilyn thought I had been in an some sort of accident.
That night as Marilyn and I walked I said, “Honey, I've dreamed a dream or seen a vision.”
After I shared with her my amazing discovery she said, “Bob I told you two weeks ago we should buy that building when we went past it.”
I hadn’t heard her but God did and the Broadway Christian Church was born.
About eighty families, approximately 300 people came with us from the suburbs to the city. The people who came interestingly enough were mostly the ones who came to Christ during my nine years at North Highlands. Our first service at Broadway Christian was held on January 6, 1974.
I began preaching on discipleship and what it means to seriously follow Jesus. I preached two and a half years on that theme. I preached for seven consecutive Sundays on repentance. I had never done that before in my life.
On one of those Sunday mornings our Church School superintendent came with his wife at his side weeping and he confessed he was a closet alcoholic. His Sunday School class with an elder leading them surrounded that man and vowed to stay with him until he was sober. That morning was a high water mark spiritually for the people knew then it was a safe place to confess sins.
I am retired from Broadway Christian now but we still live in Fort Wayne most of the year. I look back over 28 years at not only the growth in numbers (2,000 people and five services in two locations) but the organizations and churches that grew out of that one as we tried to be good disciples to our neighborhood and beyond.
It is obvious now what happened back in 1973 when the bank failed to give us a promised loan. God saved us from ourselves.
“A man’s heart devises his way; but the Lord directs his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
Pastor Bob Yawberg
Trailor Esates
Bradenton, Fl.
I Needed a Car
I was 24, single, and living in the Chicgo area. I was working at a dead-end job and in debt. In an attempt to get a handle on my spending I attended a Good $ense Finance course at my church,Willow Creek in Barrington, Illinois.
I volunteered for Willow’s cars program, where volunteers repaired used donated vehicles and made them available for single moms. I like working on engines and besides my old Honda was on its last legs and I hoped to get some tips on how to keep it running.
About this time I received in the mail a promotion from my credit union informing me that I was preapproved for a car loan up to $7500. That set the wheels turning in my head. I figured if I were going to seek a better job I would need a better car.
Armed with my loan approval letter, I drove off to a used car dealer. I showed the flyer to the salesman and off we went into the car lot. Funny how every car he showed me was on sale for $7500.
I returned home excited about the prospects of owning a better car. That week at church I shared my excitement about buying a car with my Good $ense teacher. I told him about the $7500 loan and I showed him a particular car that I had found in Auto Trader.
He was friendly but firm in his reaction. "God does not want you to go further in debt, my teacher said, "why don't you trust God for the car."
His words, while spoken kindly, hit me like a cold shower. I bristled but admitted I had agreed not to take out any more loans. At the Good $ense course I had developed a spending plan which was designed to help me live within my income and to pay down existing debt. We were told good stewardship of the resources we have honors God.
When I returned home I threw the Auto Trader in the trash. I would trust God.
The next day I received a call "out of the blue" from the leader of the Cars Team who asked how I was doing and could I help out the next weekend.
The following Saturday I was working with other volunteers in the cars program. I mentioned to the chief mechanic how the transmission on my old Honda was slipping and that I was having a hard time getting out of second gear. I told him I didn't have any money for a better car right now and I wondered if he could help me fix my
aging wreck.
I was surprised when he didn't ask any questions but just motioned me for him to follow me.We went to the back of the lot and he stopped at an old rusted 12-year-old Buick station wagon.
"Its not pretty," he said, " and it is too far gone to give to a single mother to transport her kids. But it runs, has reasobaly good tires and the transmission still works. Why don't you drive it home."
God did provide. I ended up driving that Buick for nearly two years until I could afford to buy a better car.
Peter Buchan
Sarasota, Fl.
I volunteered for Willow’s cars program, where volunteers repaired used donated vehicles and made them available for single moms. I like working on engines and besides my old Honda was on its last legs and I hoped to get some tips on how to keep it running.
About this time I received in the mail a promotion from my credit union informing me that I was preapproved for a car loan up to $7500. That set the wheels turning in my head. I figured if I were going to seek a better job I would need a better car.
Armed with my loan approval letter, I drove off to a used car dealer. I showed the flyer to the salesman and off we went into the car lot. Funny how every car he showed me was on sale for $7500.
I returned home excited about the prospects of owning a better car. That week at church I shared my excitement about buying a car with my Good $ense teacher. I told him about the $7500 loan and I showed him a particular car that I had found in Auto Trader.
He was friendly but firm in his reaction. "God does not want you to go further in debt, my teacher said, "why don't you trust God for the car."
His words, while spoken kindly, hit me like a cold shower. I bristled but admitted I had agreed not to take out any more loans. At the Good $ense course I had developed a spending plan which was designed to help me live within my income and to pay down existing debt. We were told good stewardship of the resources we have honors God.
When I returned home I threw the Auto Trader in the trash. I would trust God.
The next day I received a call "out of the blue" from the leader of the Cars Team who asked how I was doing and could I help out the next weekend.
The following Saturday I was working with other volunteers in the cars program. I mentioned to the chief mechanic how the transmission on my old Honda was slipping and that I was having a hard time getting out of second gear. I told him I didn't have any money for a better car right now and I wondered if he could help me fix my
aging wreck.
I was surprised when he didn't ask any questions but just motioned me for him to follow me.We went to the back of the lot and he stopped at an old rusted 12-year-old Buick station wagon.
"Its not pretty," he said, " and it is too far gone to give to a single mother to transport her kids. But it runs, has reasobaly good tires and the transmission still works. Why don't you drive it home."
God did provide. I ended up driving that Buick for nearly two years until I could afford to buy a better car.
Peter Buchan
Sarasota, Fl.
A Moment of Faith
In 1946, I was stationed in the Aleutian Islands as a chaplain for the United States Air Force. Our particular island , Shemya, was shaped like an oyster and was just large enough to have one important airstrip.
One night a tremendous earthquake broke open the deep water of the Bay of Alaska and sent tons of surge water ( a tsunami) toward our island. The high flood water, much higher than our island, was to hit us at about 3 a.m.
We had 3,600 men on the island, but only one surface craft for about 200. The idea of evacuation was abandoned.
Hundreds of men and officers gathered in the chapel on the high side of the island. Our highest elevation was about eighteen feet and we were warned to expect about forty feet. Every light was on in the chapel. We had both large and small prayer services and the men periodically sang songs of all faiths and wrote letters. Many men sat alone thinking of their families and what the impending death by drowning would be like.
At about 4 a.m. the wave came. There was a strong gush of wind and high water, but nothing like the predicted 40 feet. The island of Adak, lying 400 miles to the east broke the wave in two, with one half going into the Bearing Sea and the other toward Hawaii.
We were spared. Lots of water (ranging from15 to 18 feet) and a lot of mopping up, but there were no casualties. Not a single life was lost. The water came as far as the Chapel steps. Our faith had been lifted by total trust and dependence on God, and he came to our rescue.
Lionel W. Nelson, USAF retired
Sunny Side Village, Sarasota,Fl.
“Copyright©2003, Sarasota Herald-Tribune.Reprinted with express permission of the Sarasota-Herald Tribune.”
One night a tremendous earthquake broke open the deep water of the Bay of Alaska and sent tons of surge water ( a tsunami) toward our island. The high flood water, much higher than our island, was to hit us at about 3 a.m.
We had 3,600 men on the island, but only one surface craft for about 200. The idea of evacuation was abandoned.
Hundreds of men and officers gathered in the chapel on the high side of the island. Our highest elevation was about eighteen feet and we were warned to expect about forty feet. Every light was on in the chapel. We had both large and small prayer services and the men periodically sang songs of all faiths and wrote letters. Many men sat alone thinking of their families and what the impending death by drowning would be like.
At about 4 a.m. the wave came. There was a strong gush of wind and high water, but nothing like the predicted 40 feet. The island of Adak, lying 400 miles to the east broke the wave in two, with one half going into the Bearing Sea and the other toward Hawaii.
We were spared. Lots of water (ranging from15 to 18 feet) and a lot of mopping up, but there were no casualties. Not a single life was lost. The water came as far as the Chapel steps. Our faith had been lifted by total trust and dependence on God, and he came to our rescue.
Lionel W. Nelson, USAF retired
Sunny Side Village, Sarasota,Fl.
“Copyright©2003, Sarasota Herald-Tribune.Reprinted with express permission of the Sarasota-Herald Tribune.”
A Message for the President
We sometimes deprive ourselves of incredibly extraordinary experiences because we don’t believe they could happen; at least not to us. We underestimate what life has in store for us and what God is capable of accomplishing. It is in this light that I share my family’s experience in Washington, D.C. on June 25, 2006.
I had been invited to medical meetings in our nation’s capital and my wife Lisa and our two younger children, Sam (11) and Lydia (7) decided to come along to visit the monuments and see the historic sites.
The venue for the meeting was the St. Regis Hotel, two blocks from the White House. I thought, “wouldn’t it be something if somehow we could tour the White House and meet the President.” But I knew that would be impossible.
The President had very much been in our hearts and Lisa and I had been praying for him for sometime. When we left Sarasota for Washington, it was with a sense of gratitude to live in this country with its freedom and its opportunities. We prayed for a particularly memorable experience for the kids, although we would only be in Washington four days.
We arrived late Wednesday afternoon and were pleasantly surprised by the elegant accommodations at the St.Regis. The next day we decided to walk from the hotel to the White House. As we approached Lafayette Square, a block from the hotel and the White House, we were struck by a small but quaint St. John’s church on the corner. The plague at the entrance indicated it was built in 1813 and that every U.S. president since Madison had worshipped there. It has come to be known as “the Presidents’ Church.” I told Lisa I wanted to see the stained glass windows and I was sensing a strange inexplicable compulsion to go inside. Lisa complied by reminded me that we had a lot of places to see.
No one was inside except an “official-looking” lady on a cell phone. After taking some pictures, Sam and I went outside. Lisa and Lydia remained in the church. When they came out sometime later, they were obviously excited about something. The lady had shown them the specially embroiled kneelers with the names of previous presidents. Apparently, in order to have your name embroidered, you had to be out of office. She pointed out where the current president sat when he would occasionally visit. It was where his father sat.
The lady asked Lisa if we would be in town Sunday morning. Lisa said ,“Yes.”
“Well,” the Lady said, “I just got the call. The President and Mrs. Bush are going to be here for the 7:45 service and take Communion. The President takes Communion just like everyone else. It you want to come be here at 7:00 to go through security. But don’t tell anyone!”
We were determined to be there Sunday. Sam had never taken Communion despite having accepted Jesus and being baptized several years ago. He was particularly excited at the thought of having his first Communion with the President of the United States. He had only brought jeans and felt they were inappropriate for church and asked that we buy him khakis. We did.
We awoke Sunday to thunderstorms and heavy rain. My first thought was that we were going to get soaked walking to church. I also thought the President might cancel because of the rain, or something important came up preventing him from coming. We also could have been given a “bum-steer” from the lady at the church. As these thoughts entered my mind I read from Sam’s Bible and prayed. I first read Proverbs 21:1, “The king’s heart is in the Lord’s hand and He directs it as a watercourse,” substituting “president” for “king.” As I was thinking about the President with all the challenges he faces, I felt a strong compulsion to read Psalm 21, which I rarely read. As I read, I experienced an overwhelming feeling I was to give it to President Bush when I saw him. The essence of this Psalm is the king’s (president’s) expression of trust and confidence in God to protect him and to deal with his enemies. He acknowledges God as the One who placed him in his present position of power. I did not share this with Lisa at the time but later, after the events of the day, she indicated she felt that morning I would be speaking to the President.
Before leaving the hotel room, I prayed with my family and prepared them for the eventuality the President may not come. But I assured them that someone more important would definitely be at church, the God of the universe and we were going there to worship Him. With borrowed umbrellas from the hotel, we proceeded to the church in the rain.
The little church was literally “crawling” with secret service agents. We arrived early and had to wait for bomb-sniffing dogs to finish their work before went through security. Hardly anyone was there. We estimated 30 people; at least half were probably secret service. What was also interesting was that as individuals tried to sit in the pew just behind us and across the aisle, they were informed that this was reserved for the President.
At precisely 7:40, the President and Mrs. Bush came through the front door on the right. Proverbs 21:1 came over me in a surrealistic way. They walked across the front of the church, turned down the aisle on the left next to where we were seated and sat a row behind us across the aisle.
Early into the service, we were asked to stand and greet those around us. Lisa, Sam and I turned to greet the President and Mrs. Bush with handshakes and exchanges of “Peace be with you.” At that moment, I did not think it appropriate to speak to the Presidents.
Intermittently through the service, Sam would turn his head slightly to peek at the President. The President would note this, responding with a wink and a smile each time. The President took his church bulletin, signed it “Best Wishes”, and handed it to Sam. Mrs. Bush handed hers to the President informing him Sam had a sister. The President signed it and handed it to Sam saying, “Give this to your sister.”
We were invited forward to the alter to received Communion. As our family proceeded down the aisle, we passed a lady in a pew on the right who appeared as if she wanted to be let in line. Sam and I backed up to let her in. In so doing, unknowingly President and Mrs. Bush were placed in line behind us. Thus, when it came time to take Communion, we found ourselves kneeling with them to receive the wafer and wine. The order was Sam, I, Lisa, Mrs. Bush and the President.
Upon returning to our pew, I turned to seat myself and found the President right next to me. I said, “Mr. President this morning as I was praying for you, I felt moved to read Psalm 21. I would like to give it to you.”
He responded, “Thank you sir,” and shook my hand.
When the service came to a close, the President and Mrs. Bush were escorted from their seats. He waved to us and said, “See you guys later.”
I said, “God bless you Mr. President.”
He replied, “Thank you sir.”
It all seemed like a dream except we had two signed church bulletins, which told us otherwise. We stepped out of the church into a deluge and arrived at our hotel soaked to the bone. Bur we did not mind. We had just been showered with a special blessing from God.
I will not know if the President read Psalm 21. I do know a short time afterwards; the President came under extreme criticism for his conduct of the war in Iraq. Later his Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld resigned. The President’s popularity hit an all time low in the midst of the changing course of the war. I believe the Psalm would have been a great comfort to him.
Ronald Aung-Din
Sarasota
I had been invited to medical meetings in our nation’s capital and my wife Lisa and our two younger children, Sam (11) and Lydia (7) decided to come along to visit the monuments and see the historic sites.
The venue for the meeting was the St. Regis Hotel, two blocks from the White House. I thought, “wouldn’t it be something if somehow we could tour the White House and meet the President.” But I knew that would be impossible.
The President had very much been in our hearts and Lisa and I had been praying for him for sometime. When we left Sarasota for Washington, it was with a sense of gratitude to live in this country with its freedom and its opportunities. We prayed for a particularly memorable experience for the kids, although we would only be in Washington four days.
We arrived late Wednesday afternoon and were pleasantly surprised by the elegant accommodations at the St.Regis. The next day we decided to walk from the hotel to the White House. As we approached Lafayette Square, a block from the hotel and the White House, we were struck by a small but quaint St. John’s church on the corner. The plague at the entrance indicated it was built in 1813 and that every U.S. president since Madison had worshipped there. It has come to be known as “the Presidents’ Church.” I told Lisa I wanted to see the stained glass windows and I was sensing a strange inexplicable compulsion to go inside. Lisa complied by reminded me that we had a lot of places to see.
No one was inside except an “official-looking” lady on a cell phone. After taking some pictures, Sam and I went outside. Lisa and Lydia remained in the church. When they came out sometime later, they were obviously excited about something. The lady had shown them the specially embroiled kneelers with the names of previous presidents. Apparently, in order to have your name embroidered, you had to be out of office. She pointed out where the current president sat when he would occasionally visit. It was where his father sat.
The lady asked Lisa if we would be in town Sunday morning. Lisa said ,“Yes.”
“Well,” the Lady said, “I just got the call. The President and Mrs. Bush are going to be here for the 7:45 service and take Communion. The President takes Communion just like everyone else. It you want to come be here at 7:00 to go through security. But don’t tell anyone!”
We were determined to be there Sunday. Sam had never taken Communion despite having accepted Jesus and being baptized several years ago. He was particularly excited at the thought of having his first Communion with the President of the United States. He had only brought jeans and felt they were inappropriate for church and asked that we buy him khakis. We did.
We awoke Sunday to thunderstorms and heavy rain. My first thought was that we were going to get soaked walking to church. I also thought the President might cancel because of the rain, or something important came up preventing him from coming. We also could have been given a “bum-steer” from the lady at the church. As these thoughts entered my mind I read from Sam’s Bible and prayed. I first read Proverbs 21:1, “The king’s heart is in the Lord’s hand and He directs it as a watercourse,” substituting “president” for “king.” As I was thinking about the President with all the challenges he faces, I felt a strong compulsion to read Psalm 21, which I rarely read. As I read, I experienced an overwhelming feeling I was to give it to President Bush when I saw him. The essence of this Psalm is the king’s (president’s) expression of trust and confidence in God to protect him and to deal with his enemies. He acknowledges God as the One who placed him in his present position of power. I did not share this with Lisa at the time but later, after the events of the day, she indicated she felt that morning I would be speaking to the President.
Before leaving the hotel room, I prayed with my family and prepared them for the eventuality the President may not come. But I assured them that someone more important would definitely be at church, the God of the universe and we were going there to worship Him. With borrowed umbrellas from the hotel, we proceeded to the church in the rain.
The little church was literally “crawling” with secret service agents. We arrived early and had to wait for bomb-sniffing dogs to finish their work before went through security. Hardly anyone was there. We estimated 30 people; at least half were probably secret service. What was also interesting was that as individuals tried to sit in the pew just behind us and across the aisle, they were informed that this was reserved for the President.
At precisely 7:40, the President and Mrs. Bush came through the front door on the right. Proverbs 21:1 came over me in a surrealistic way. They walked across the front of the church, turned down the aisle on the left next to where we were seated and sat a row behind us across the aisle.
Early into the service, we were asked to stand and greet those around us. Lisa, Sam and I turned to greet the President and Mrs. Bush with handshakes and exchanges of “Peace be with you.” At that moment, I did not think it appropriate to speak to the Presidents.
Intermittently through the service, Sam would turn his head slightly to peek at the President. The President would note this, responding with a wink and a smile each time. The President took his church bulletin, signed it “Best Wishes”, and handed it to Sam. Mrs. Bush handed hers to the President informing him Sam had a sister. The President signed it and handed it to Sam saying, “Give this to your sister.”
We were invited forward to the alter to received Communion. As our family proceeded down the aisle, we passed a lady in a pew on the right who appeared as if she wanted to be let in line. Sam and I backed up to let her in. In so doing, unknowingly President and Mrs. Bush were placed in line behind us. Thus, when it came time to take Communion, we found ourselves kneeling with them to receive the wafer and wine. The order was Sam, I, Lisa, Mrs. Bush and the President.
Upon returning to our pew, I turned to seat myself and found the President right next to me. I said, “Mr. President this morning as I was praying for you, I felt moved to read Psalm 21. I would like to give it to you.”
He responded, “Thank you sir,” and shook my hand.
When the service came to a close, the President and Mrs. Bush were escorted from their seats. He waved to us and said, “See you guys later.”
I said, “God bless you Mr. President.”
He replied, “Thank you sir.”
It all seemed like a dream except we had two signed church bulletins, which told us otherwise. We stepped out of the church into a deluge and arrived at our hotel soaked to the bone. Bur we did not mind. We had just been showered with a special blessing from God.
I will not know if the President read Psalm 21. I do know a short time afterwards; the President came under extreme criticism for his conduct of the war in Iraq. Later his Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld resigned. The President’s popularity hit an all time low in the midst of the changing course of the war. I believe the Psalm would have been a great comfort to him.
Ronald Aung-Din
Sarasota
Its a Small World
In September '97 Hallett Prison Ministries held its sixth annual banquet and celebration. We invited a number of former inmates to minister in music and share their testimony. One of our guest speakers was Audrey.
The first time we ministered to Audrey was at Florida Correctional in Lowell Florida. Audrey was one of many women for whom we provided spiritual guidance and encouragement through message and song. At one of our services she made a recommitment to God. She began taking our correspondence Bible study.
Audrey completed her sentence and was released from prison. It was two years after her release, around the time we were getting ready to have our banquet, that she wrote me a letter to thank us for our ministry to her in prison. I responded and invited her to speak at the banquet.
While at the banquet Audrey informed us that she had relatives in Tampa and that she was hoping to put in a transfer and relocate from her present job to Tampa. We all offered prayer for her transfer. Some time later, Audrey called us and told us that they offered her a position in Sarasota and she wanted to know what I thought about it. Well, I told her to take it as a stepping stone to Tampa. And so she did. We got Audrey involved with our church and offered council and assistance where ever we could. She found a room for rent and began her new job.
At this point, Audrey did not have a car so she used either a bus or a cab to get to and from work. However, whenever Mitch, my assistant, and I would go out of town, we would leave the ministry car that Mitch drove with Audrey and we would pick it up upon our return. One time when Mitch went to get the car, he found Audrey sleeping in the back seat.. After talking with Audrey, we discovered that her landlady had been locking her out periodically and Audrey was afraid to say anything for fear of causing trouble, so, she just slept in the car. I talked with my wife, Jill, and we decided that we would help Audrey get her own place. We invited Audrey to our home to stay until she raised enough money for her own apartment.
Making a decision to bring Audrey into our home was a big step of faith and obedience for Jill and me as we had done this before and things hadn’t work out as we had hoped. In fact, we said, "We will never do this again." But, "never say never" when you're controlled by a merciful God. All we knew is that Audrey needed help and we had the resources.
So, we gave unconditionally as Christ has given to us. Consequently, we continued to seek God for a sign that we did the right thing. After getting to know Audrey better we learned more about her. Audrey had been married to a professional football player for 17 years. They had two sons. During a very difficult divorce her sons, age 16 and 13 both committed suicide. At the time that we had met Audrey she was recovering from the loss of her sons and was finishing a 14 month prison term instigated by her husband who charged her with "grand theft auto" of their own car.
One day while out on road trip, Jill called to say Audrey's mother died in Tampa and that Audrey was going to join her father and other family at the funeral. Audrey's father and mother were divorced. He was remarried and lived in Washington State.
When I returned home Audrey told me that her father, James, thought he knew me. In fact, he referred to me as a "world traveler." I thought that was funny. However, I couldn't remember ever meeting him. Audrey said that her father told her he met me in Washington D.C. - My immediate response was, "the last time I remember living in Washington D.C. was about 15 years ago,” (and I truly hoped he did not know me then.) However, she said he had just recently met me. Well, as I searched my memory banks, it dawned on me that my last visit to Washington D.C. was in October '97 at the Promise Keeper Stand-in-the-Gap Rally. But surely, in the midst of more than a million men, I could not have met her father.
Well, as the Spirit began to give me more memory. I recalled that there was an occasion when one of the speakers asked us men to turn to someone around us and get in groups to pray for reconciliation among ethnic groups. Consequently, Mitch and I turned to two gentlemen (one Caucasian and one Black) in back of us and began praying.
We prayed for everything from ethnic reconciliation to family protection and good
health. I felt the power of God very strong in our prayers. The Caucasian gentlemen asked if we could take a picture to remember this time. I said, "sure, as long as you will mail me one." I had recently received that picture and it was still in the envelope on my desk. I went to my desk and opened the envelope, then brought the picture to Audrey and said, "this is a picture of the people I met in D.C."
As she looked at the picture her eyes open very wide as she pointed to the black gentleman and shouted, "that's my dad! that's my dad!" Well, the
hairs remaining on the top of my head were standing straight up. With tears in our eyes we knew that, "It's a small world after all, but we serve a great big God."
For Jill and me, this development was our conformation that Audrey was suppose to be at our home. For Audrey, her faith was increased and she knew that God was working in her life through the prayers of her earthly father. Since that moment, we have had some good times of prayer, fellowship and counseling sessions. Audrey became financially ready and she moved into her own apartment.
God has been faithful and He miraculously demonstrated his love for Audrey, He will do the same for each of us. I pray that this testimony will encourage you that God really cares for you and that He is interested in every facet of your life. Whatever you are going through right now, remember that God loves you and He is always in control. Nothing can happen in your life that God is not aware of and God will always work evil for our good, and good for our better. The key is to pray without ceasing and stay focused through the reading and application of His Word. Put all of your hope and trust in Jesus and He will never fail you.
“The Lord is Good, a strong hold in the day of trouble; and He knows those that trust in Him.” (Nahum 1:7)
Rev. Art Hallett, Hallett Prison Ministries
Kensignton Park, Sarasota Fl.
The first time we ministered to Audrey was at Florida Correctional in Lowell Florida. Audrey was one of many women for whom we provided spiritual guidance and encouragement through message and song. At one of our services she made a recommitment to God. She began taking our correspondence Bible study.
Audrey completed her sentence and was released from prison. It was two years after her release, around the time we were getting ready to have our banquet, that she wrote me a letter to thank us for our ministry to her in prison. I responded and invited her to speak at the banquet.
While at the banquet Audrey informed us that she had relatives in Tampa and that she was hoping to put in a transfer and relocate from her present job to Tampa. We all offered prayer for her transfer. Some time later, Audrey called us and told us that they offered her a position in Sarasota and she wanted to know what I thought about it. Well, I told her to take it as a stepping stone to Tampa. And so she did. We got Audrey involved with our church and offered council and assistance where ever we could. She found a room for rent and began her new job.
At this point, Audrey did not have a car so she used either a bus or a cab to get to and from work. However, whenever Mitch, my assistant, and I would go out of town, we would leave the ministry car that Mitch drove with Audrey and we would pick it up upon our return. One time when Mitch went to get the car, he found Audrey sleeping in the back seat.. After talking with Audrey, we discovered that her landlady had been locking her out periodically and Audrey was afraid to say anything for fear of causing trouble, so, she just slept in the car. I talked with my wife, Jill, and we decided that we would help Audrey get her own place. We invited Audrey to our home to stay until she raised enough money for her own apartment.
Making a decision to bring Audrey into our home was a big step of faith and obedience for Jill and me as we had done this before and things hadn’t work out as we had hoped. In fact, we said, "We will never do this again." But, "never say never" when you're controlled by a merciful God. All we knew is that Audrey needed help and we had the resources.
So, we gave unconditionally as Christ has given to us. Consequently, we continued to seek God for a sign that we did the right thing. After getting to know Audrey better we learned more about her. Audrey had been married to a professional football player for 17 years. They had two sons. During a very difficult divorce her sons, age 16 and 13 both committed suicide. At the time that we had met Audrey she was recovering from the loss of her sons and was finishing a 14 month prison term instigated by her husband who charged her with "grand theft auto" of their own car.
One day while out on road trip, Jill called to say Audrey's mother died in Tampa and that Audrey was going to join her father and other family at the funeral. Audrey's father and mother were divorced. He was remarried and lived in Washington State.
When I returned home Audrey told me that her father, James, thought he knew me. In fact, he referred to me as a "world traveler." I thought that was funny. However, I couldn't remember ever meeting him. Audrey said that her father told her he met me in Washington D.C. - My immediate response was, "the last time I remember living in Washington D.C. was about 15 years ago,” (and I truly hoped he did not know me then.) However, she said he had just recently met me. Well, as I searched my memory banks, it dawned on me that my last visit to Washington D.C. was in October '97 at the Promise Keeper Stand-in-the-Gap Rally. But surely, in the midst of more than a million men, I could not have met her father.
Well, as the Spirit began to give me more memory. I recalled that there was an occasion when one of the speakers asked us men to turn to someone around us and get in groups to pray for reconciliation among ethnic groups. Consequently, Mitch and I turned to two gentlemen (one Caucasian and one Black) in back of us and began praying.
We prayed for everything from ethnic reconciliation to family protection and good
health. I felt the power of God very strong in our prayers. The Caucasian gentlemen asked if we could take a picture to remember this time. I said, "sure, as long as you will mail me one." I had recently received that picture and it was still in the envelope on my desk. I went to my desk and opened the envelope, then brought the picture to Audrey and said, "this is a picture of the people I met in D.C."
As she looked at the picture her eyes open very wide as she pointed to the black gentleman and shouted, "that's my dad! that's my dad!" Well, the
hairs remaining on the top of my head were standing straight up. With tears in our eyes we knew that, "It's a small world after all, but we serve a great big God."
For Jill and me, this development was our conformation that Audrey was suppose to be at our home. For Audrey, her faith was increased and she knew that God was working in her life through the prayers of her earthly father. Since that moment, we have had some good times of prayer, fellowship and counseling sessions. Audrey became financially ready and she moved into her own apartment.
God has been faithful and He miraculously demonstrated his love for Audrey, He will do the same for each of us. I pray that this testimony will encourage you that God really cares for you and that He is interested in every facet of your life. Whatever you are going through right now, remember that God loves you and He is always in control. Nothing can happen in your life that God is not aware of and God will always work evil for our good, and good for our better. The key is to pray without ceasing and stay focused through the reading and application of His Word. Put all of your hope and trust in Jesus and He will never fail you.
“The Lord is Good, a strong hold in the day of trouble; and He knows those that trust in Him.” (Nahum 1:7)
Rev. Art Hallett, Hallett Prison Ministries
Kensignton Park, Sarasota Fl.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Choices
At a very young age, I started to dabble in drugs and found it as an escape. I continued to live that life style into my high school years. I left home at 15 and moved in with older people. I did not finish school and continued to live the party life not knowing who I was or taking responsibility.
I had many relationships with fellas. Then I met Jay, a fabulous guy, and I got pregnant. I still didn’t do anything about my drug addiction. Jay and I were married and I had the baby. My life continued to spiral downward and I was thinking I needed the party scene and not marriage and children.
Jay and I stayed married for about a year with me not participating in the relationship at all. Then I moved in with a fella who was an after hours bar tender and left my baby with Jay. This was probably the worst time of my life. I felt horrible.
One day I was at a party and had taken the baby with me, when Jay came and pounded on the door. When I finally opened it, he said, “Give me James.”
I went, bundled up the baby and handed him to Jay who said, “Christy come with us.”
I said, “No, I’m staying here,” and Jay walked away with my son for the last time.
It got bad after that. I could see James but only under supervision. It was a horrible way to live and a horrible way to feel.
I moved from Philadelphia to Florida to get away and to start over. It was a crazy thing to do because moving away never works. I ended up in Venice with my parents. Eventually I entered rehab because I wanted my baby back. In the rehab, they talked about a “higher power.” They did not identify what that higher power was and told us we can choose what we wanted to as a higher power... Without arrogance or inappropriateness, I picked the character Alf from the television show. I really did not understand then, and it is amazing to think back on that, but I really didn’t understand what a higher power was or what it truly meant.
I didn’t take any of the suggestions truly in that rehab so I was destined to fail anyway. From the moment, I picked Alf and the lack of follow thru on any of the suggestions. They told us to stay out of relationships while we were there. I thought I was fooling everyone by the performance I displayed while I was there, I was president of the halfway house and I walked the corridors as if I knew exactly what I was doing. However, I was only fooling myself.
I entered a relationship with a man at that program.
Let me tell you to stay out of relationships. I was drinking on weekends and coming back on Sunday. It was just a game and they dropped me from the program.
We moved with his parents. His mother was disabled. Our lifestyle was insane; we traveled and wrote back checks on his brother’s account without ever thinking there would be any repercussions. I had never really been in trouble with the law except for some minor things. We also began to pawn some guns from his parent’s weapons collection for the money always thinking we would get them back out somehow. How insane.
When we were caught, I was charged with 21 counts of dealing with stolen firearms and two forged instruments over $50,000. I had no idea
how I had gotten there.
I went to jail and the judge released me to the custody of my parent’s house. However, I didn't stay put and was returned to jail and placed in the same rehab again. I jumped the fence, which is crazy because the gate was not locked. I ended up in jail again this time without bond so there was no way of getting out.
I started going to different things just to get out of my cell. I attended the Bible study there at the Sarasota County jail. I would sit in the back and I would talk. Sue Taylor, the Bible teacher at that time, would say would you be quiet, I’ll give you time afterwards to talk. At that time God started to work on me through what Susan was teaching. She had the ability to bring the Bible to real life today.
I started looking forward to going to Bible study and asking questions. I one point I asked her, “How do you get this thing?” She looked me in the eye and asked, “Do you like the way you are living?”
I didn’t like the way I was living. It was horrid.
She said, “There is another way- a new way of life.”
“How do I get this new way of life?”
She said I had to repent and accept Jesus Christ as my savior and if I believed he died on the cross for my sins and that he rose again three days later that I would be saved. She said I needed to go back to my cell and ask Christ into my life.
I went to my cell and all I could muster were the words, “Please help me.” That’s it. That was the catalyst that changed my life.
I returned to Bible study with a fresh look and eagerness to learn. I sat up front and I’m sure I was driving her crazy but I wanted a new way to live. In retrospect I’m sure that is when the Holy Spirit came into my life.
No kidding, I was prompted to stop swearing. I had a very inappropriate vocabulary. God was working on my heart. It was a slow process but amazing to me at the time. I continued to progress but I didn’t understand what I was reading. My Bible teacher said you are a baby in Christ so you are going to be reading mush for awhile but regardless the Holy Spirit and God would work though these times of mush and to read the word was feeding me no matter what.
I was facing eleven years in prison for the 21 counts of dealing in stolen firearms. As my sentencing came closer I asked my Bible teacher if we could pray that I don’t go to prison.
She said “You know Christy; this isn’t about a lifestyle change that you don’t go to prison. This is about a lifestyle change because you believe in Jesus Christ.”
I said I get it.
She said, “Whether you go to prison or not, you need to be a believer either way.”
So when we said the prayer for my court date it was in earnest that whatever God’s will was is what is best for me.
God’s will for me was to release me to a 12-step program called choices. I also was given seven years house arrest and five years probation and I had to pay $20,000 restitution.
I was released with a faith I could not lose. I had Jesus Christ. I started each day on my knees in prayer and I did everything in that program that they suggested.
I got a job and began paying my restitution. Each step I felt a little bit better and my self-esteem began to build. It was scary but I successfully made it through that program and I went back before the judge and actually got my sentence reduced. The authorities saw what was happening when you believe in Jesus, although I’m sure they didn’t view it like that but that I was doing well in the program
Life started to become a wonderful thing. I rented a little apartment and I acquired a kitty of my own. I was going to AA meetings and I was going to church and to Bible study. Actually when I was under house arrest The Bible study teacher starting coming to my home. Things were getting a little bit better each day.
Fast Forward----I met Patrick and we started going to churches. We had both been sober for sometime. One Baptist church said we shouldn’t be living together. I guess they were sticking to their values and we hadn’t risen to that level of values yet. At this point God was working on me to be celibate. We had worked hard to acquire a house and. Patrick didn’t want to rip that apart. It was a struggle but I was certain that was what God wanted.
Patrick said, “I am going to honor you if that is what God is calling you to do.”
Patrick stopped going to church. He said they were trying to rip us apart. I t was very hard because I knew my faith, and what I stood for and I knew I had to have a husband who had those values. It became a big struggle in our lives.
But God is in control (no surprise there) He had us go to friends wedding and Pastor Jeff Wilson did the ceremony. He chatted with us afterwards in a friendly manner and invited Patrick that Saturday evening. to attend South Shore Community Church, where Jeff was the pastor. What a blessing.
We loved the church but we didn’t really feel we fit right in because we were both recovering drug addicts and didn’t do church before. We were put in a small group with the Aung-Dins, Penetecosts and the Taylors. Two of the homes we met in were enormous…three times the size of our house. We really didn’t fit but they welcomed us, made us feel comfortable and took us under their wing.
Patrick and I have been married now for nine years and we are leading a small group. There has been a miraculous transformation in my relationship with James, Jay and his wife who is a wonderful Christian lady. James lives with his dad and step mom most of the year but stays with Patrick and me during summer school vacation.
Footnote. About a year after I was released from prison I went into the jail with Sue Berger the Bible teacher to share my experience. Every Wednesday night for two or three hours I co-lead this Bible study. I have been teaching Bible study in county jail now for ten years. I get a call from the Chaplain. He wanted me to know that this month, February; (2007) they are having an honorary breakfast for the volunteer of the year for Sarasota County Jail. And yeah it is me. Go Figure.
I was an inmate, a non believer of Jesus and facing 11 years in prison. And now fast forward 12 years and I’m being honored not only as a volunteer but as a Bible study teacher. You see God takes wretches and makes them into people who are useful. It is amazing. It is so God.
Christy Smith
Sarasota, Fl.
I had many relationships with fellas. Then I met Jay, a fabulous guy, and I got pregnant. I still didn’t do anything about my drug addiction. Jay and I were married and I had the baby. My life continued to spiral downward and I was thinking I needed the party scene and not marriage and children.
Jay and I stayed married for about a year with me not participating in the relationship at all. Then I moved in with a fella who was an after hours bar tender and left my baby with Jay. This was probably the worst time of my life. I felt horrible.
One day I was at a party and had taken the baby with me, when Jay came and pounded on the door. When I finally opened it, he said, “Give me James.”
I went, bundled up the baby and handed him to Jay who said, “Christy come with us.”
I said, “No, I’m staying here,” and Jay walked away with my son for the last time.
It got bad after that. I could see James but only under supervision. It was a horrible way to live and a horrible way to feel.
I moved from Philadelphia to Florida to get away and to start over. It was a crazy thing to do because moving away never works. I ended up in Venice with my parents. Eventually I entered rehab because I wanted my baby back. In the rehab, they talked about a “higher power.” They did not identify what that higher power was and told us we can choose what we wanted to as a higher power... Without arrogance or inappropriateness, I picked the character Alf from the television show. I really did not understand then, and it is amazing to think back on that, but I really didn’t understand what a higher power was or what it truly meant.
I didn’t take any of the suggestions truly in that rehab so I was destined to fail anyway. From the moment, I picked Alf and the lack of follow thru on any of the suggestions. They told us to stay out of relationships while we were there. I thought I was fooling everyone by the performance I displayed while I was there, I was president of the halfway house and I walked the corridors as if I knew exactly what I was doing. However, I was only fooling myself.
I entered a relationship with a man at that program.
Let me tell you to stay out of relationships. I was drinking on weekends and coming back on Sunday. It was just a game and they dropped me from the program.
We moved with his parents. His mother was disabled. Our lifestyle was insane; we traveled and wrote back checks on his brother’s account without ever thinking there would be any repercussions. I had never really been in trouble with the law except for some minor things. We also began to pawn some guns from his parent’s weapons collection for the money always thinking we would get them back out somehow. How insane.
When we were caught, I was charged with 21 counts of dealing with stolen firearms and two forged instruments over $50,000. I had no idea
how I had gotten there.
I went to jail and the judge released me to the custody of my parent’s house. However, I didn't stay put and was returned to jail and placed in the same rehab again. I jumped the fence, which is crazy because the gate was not locked. I ended up in jail again this time without bond so there was no way of getting out.
I started going to different things just to get out of my cell. I attended the Bible study there at the Sarasota County jail. I would sit in the back and I would talk. Sue Taylor, the Bible teacher at that time, would say would you be quiet, I’ll give you time afterwards to talk. At that time God started to work on me through what Susan was teaching. She had the ability to bring the Bible to real life today.
I started looking forward to going to Bible study and asking questions. I one point I asked her, “How do you get this thing?” She looked me in the eye and asked, “Do you like the way you are living?”
I didn’t like the way I was living. It was horrid.
She said, “There is another way- a new way of life.”
“How do I get this new way of life?”
She said I had to repent and accept Jesus Christ as my savior and if I believed he died on the cross for my sins and that he rose again three days later that I would be saved. She said I needed to go back to my cell and ask Christ into my life.
I went to my cell and all I could muster were the words, “Please help me.” That’s it. That was the catalyst that changed my life.
I returned to Bible study with a fresh look and eagerness to learn. I sat up front and I’m sure I was driving her crazy but I wanted a new way to live. In retrospect I’m sure that is when the Holy Spirit came into my life.
No kidding, I was prompted to stop swearing. I had a very inappropriate vocabulary. God was working on my heart. It was a slow process but amazing to me at the time. I continued to progress but I didn’t understand what I was reading. My Bible teacher said you are a baby in Christ so you are going to be reading mush for awhile but regardless the Holy Spirit and God would work though these times of mush and to read the word was feeding me no matter what.
I was facing eleven years in prison for the 21 counts of dealing in stolen firearms. As my sentencing came closer I asked my Bible teacher if we could pray that I don’t go to prison.
She said “You know Christy; this isn’t about a lifestyle change that you don’t go to prison. This is about a lifestyle change because you believe in Jesus Christ.”
I said I get it.
She said, “Whether you go to prison or not, you need to be a believer either way.”
So when we said the prayer for my court date it was in earnest that whatever God’s will was is what is best for me.
God’s will for me was to release me to a 12-step program called choices. I also was given seven years house arrest and five years probation and I had to pay $20,000 restitution.
I was released with a faith I could not lose. I had Jesus Christ. I started each day on my knees in prayer and I did everything in that program that they suggested.
I got a job and began paying my restitution. Each step I felt a little bit better and my self-esteem began to build. It was scary but I successfully made it through that program and I went back before the judge and actually got my sentence reduced. The authorities saw what was happening when you believe in Jesus, although I’m sure they didn’t view it like that but that I was doing well in the program
Life started to become a wonderful thing. I rented a little apartment and I acquired a kitty of my own. I was going to AA meetings and I was going to church and to Bible study. Actually when I was under house arrest The Bible study teacher starting coming to my home. Things were getting a little bit better each day.
Fast Forward----I met Patrick and we started going to churches. We had both been sober for sometime. One Baptist church said we shouldn’t be living together. I guess they were sticking to their values and we hadn’t risen to that level of values yet. At this point God was working on me to be celibate. We had worked hard to acquire a house and. Patrick didn’t want to rip that apart. It was a struggle but I was certain that was what God wanted.
Patrick said, “I am going to honor you if that is what God is calling you to do.”
Patrick stopped going to church. He said they were trying to rip us apart. I t was very hard because I knew my faith, and what I stood for and I knew I had to have a husband who had those values. It became a big struggle in our lives.
But God is in control (no surprise there) He had us go to friends wedding and Pastor Jeff Wilson did the ceremony. He chatted with us afterwards in a friendly manner and invited Patrick that Saturday evening. to attend South Shore Community Church, where Jeff was the pastor. What a blessing.
We loved the church but we didn’t really feel we fit right in because we were both recovering drug addicts and didn’t do church before. We were put in a small group with the Aung-Dins, Penetecosts and the Taylors. Two of the homes we met in were enormous…three times the size of our house. We really didn’t fit but they welcomed us, made us feel comfortable and took us under their wing.
Patrick and I have been married now for nine years and we are leading a small group. There has been a miraculous transformation in my relationship with James, Jay and his wife who is a wonderful Christian lady. James lives with his dad and step mom most of the year but stays with Patrick and me during summer school vacation.
Footnote. About a year after I was released from prison I went into the jail with Sue Berger the Bible teacher to share my experience. Every Wednesday night for two or three hours I co-lead this Bible study. I have been teaching Bible study in county jail now for ten years. I get a call from the Chaplain. He wanted me to know that this month, February; (2007) they are having an honorary breakfast for the volunteer of the year for Sarasota County Jail. And yeah it is me. Go Figure.
I was an inmate, a non believer of Jesus and facing 11 years in prison. And now fast forward 12 years and I’m being honored not only as a volunteer but as a Bible study teacher. You see God takes wretches and makes them into people who are useful. It is amazing. It is so God.
Christy Smith
Sarasota, Fl.
"Bob"
I was going through a really difficult time. I was recovering from a divorce, my daughter was living away from home at school and the bank I was working for was going under due to big mistakes in real estate lending.
Then the unthinkable happened. My male friend committed suicide. I found his body slumped over in his garage still in his car. He was a colleague at the bank and I cared for him deeply. I never felt more alone.
The following evening a dear friend from the bank, Noreen, came to my apartment with her husband David. They gathered up a few of my things, literally carried me to their car and drove me to their home.
Noreen was also a good friend of the man who had tragically taken his own life. She made a wonderful bed for me out of the couches in her living room, make a fire in the fireplace and instead of bringing me a box of tissues she brought me all her frilly hankies. She also made a pot of my favorite tea.
While Noreen and I talked about our deceased friend and some of the times we spent together, her son Paul, who was probably five or six at the time, kept coming in and out of the room. Each trip he brought a handful of toys or stuffed animals, which he lined up next to me on the couch. The more I thanked him the more things he brought me. Eventually the couch was filled up and he began placing the toys on the floor next to me. In his little boy way he was bringing everything he had to comfort his mother’s friend who obviously was crying and sad. Lastly he brought into the room his most precious possession-his baby blanket.
I’m a major baby blanket person. When I was a child I had a crib-sized blanket that was very much a part of my life until I was fourteen. I would hold it to my nose; suck my thumb, especially in turbulent times. That blanket brought me comfort and joy. It had been loved to death and by the time I was 14 it had been reduced to the size of a silver dollar.
I understand all things baby blanket. Those of us who were baby blanket people have a way of finding each other. We have a language that only we understand. So little Paul and I immediately had this bond and he showed me his baby blanket that looked like a large blob of shredded rags tied together in large knots.
He called his baby blanket “Bob.” We agreed that the very worse thing that can happen is when well meaning moms wash our baby blankets.It takes weeks to get them back in shape and to properly smell again.
After a while, Paul and “Bob” went off to bed.
When the house was quiet I began reflecting and I began to cry and even sob. My shaking with grief was interrupted by the sound of shuffling little feet. It was Paul walking towards me carrying “Bob.” Without saying a word, he gently laid “Bob” in my arms, turned and left the room, closing the French doors behind him.
At that moment, I knew that God was using this child to comfort me in my time of pain and sorrow.
To this day, I am blown away by that precious little one obeying the prodding of the Lord and lending me his most cherished possession that evening. God manifested his love that night to me.
Joy Holloway
The Meadows
Sarasota
Then the unthinkable happened. My male friend committed suicide. I found his body slumped over in his garage still in his car. He was a colleague at the bank and I cared for him deeply. I never felt more alone.
The following evening a dear friend from the bank, Noreen, came to my apartment with her husband David. They gathered up a few of my things, literally carried me to their car and drove me to their home.
Noreen was also a good friend of the man who had tragically taken his own life. She made a wonderful bed for me out of the couches in her living room, make a fire in the fireplace and instead of bringing me a box of tissues she brought me all her frilly hankies. She also made a pot of my favorite tea.
While Noreen and I talked about our deceased friend and some of the times we spent together, her son Paul, who was probably five or six at the time, kept coming in and out of the room. Each trip he brought a handful of toys or stuffed animals, which he lined up next to me on the couch. The more I thanked him the more things he brought me. Eventually the couch was filled up and he began placing the toys on the floor next to me. In his little boy way he was bringing everything he had to comfort his mother’s friend who obviously was crying and sad. Lastly he brought into the room his most precious possession-his baby blanket.
I’m a major baby blanket person. When I was a child I had a crib-sized blanket that was very much a part of my life until I was fourteen. I would hold it to my nose; suck my thumb, especially in turbulent times. That blanket brought me comfort and joy. It had been loved to death and by the time I was 14 it had been reduced to the size of a silver dollar.
I understand all things baby blanket. Those of us who were baby blanket people have a way of finding each other. We have a language that only we understand. So little Paul and I immediately had this bond and he showed me his baby blanket that looked like a large blob of shredded rags tied together in large knots.
He called his baby blanket “Bob.” We agreed that the very worse thing that can happen is when well meaning moms wash our baby blankets.It takes weeks to get them back in shape and to properly smell again.
After a while, Paul and “Bob” went off to bed.
When the house was quiet I began reflecting and I began to cry and even sob. My shaking with grief was interrupted by the sound of shuffling little feet. It was Paul walking towards me carrying “Bob.” Without saying a word, he gently laid “Bob” in my arms, turned and left the room, closing the French doors behind him.
At that moment, I knew that God was using this child to comfort me in my time of pain and sorrow.
To this day, I am blown away by that precious little one obeying the prodding of the Lord and lending me his most cherished possession that evening. God manifested his love that night to me.
Joy Holloway
The Meadows
Sarasota
A Raging River
It is June and time for our annual family reunion camping along the banks of the Raven Fork River. Only this one will change the course of my life.
On the drive from Florida to Cherokee, North Carolina my wife and I talk about the offer made by the pastor of our community church in Sarasota. He wants me to serve as Interim Children’s Director on a six-month trial basis. I have served the children’s ministry as a volunteer for several years while my paying position is managing a restaurant for a national chain. My heart is with the children but my head and my wife are saying it would be financially irresponsible to take an interim position for six months while a committee searches for a director. Besides, I would have to take a pay cut and with a wife and two children to support that would be fiscal stupidity.
We arrive at the campsite in a steady drizzle. Most of the families are gathered under a large tent fly. After lunch I decide to go fishing and thinking. The Raven has eight-foot banks opposite the campground and is relatively shallow ranging in dept from calf deep to waist deep. I put on waders and rain gear and proceed into the calm water. Most of the adults are playing cards under the tent fly while Pete, my brother-in-law, watches me fish from the bank.
I was so engrossed in fishing that I didn’t notice what was happening around me. I should have known if it is raining here it is pouring up river in the mountains. Within minutes the river rises from knee deep to waist deep and the water is turning a murky brown. Now I realize what is happening and I turn toward the near bank. This is a big mistake. The river is deeper on this side and my waders quickly fill with water and drag me under like a sinker. My waders hold me down while the rushing river pushes me downstream.
I am struggling to regain my footing and get to the surface. I'm in trouble. Suddenly I hit a rock with such force that it pops me upright like a bobber. I stand there, breathing heavily and deliberately leaning forward with the water pushing against my chest. I am unable to move. This is serious.
My brother-in-law is frantically yelling for the other men who soon appear on the bank above me. They lower an inflated tube with a rope tied to it but it doesn’t reach. me.
Next they throw the inner tube but it blows past me and is punctured somewhere downstream when it hits a sharp rock or pointed stump. Someone finds another piece of rope and ties it to the first rope. The men lower a now deflated tube tied on the longer rope. After a couple of attempts this one reaches me and I wrap the rope around my hand.
When the men pull on the rope I am immediately projected prone in the water and with the river pushing me and with my extra weight my rescuers are nearly pulled in on top of me. It takes all the strength of those ten men and older boys to hold me against the current. Gradually they ease me to the bank, which is terraced with rocks held in place by a wire mesh. I am able to grab a tree growing out of the bank and I hold on while some men crawl gingerly down the bank and help me out of the river.
Later standing on top of the embankment several of us watched logs, branches and other debris being propelled down river by the rushing water. A large log shot right over where I had been standing helpless against the river. That could have been fatal. I learned first hand the power of water and how fast things can change. I see now how people can be caught in a flash flood.
Pete interrupts my musings. “Chris you have to see this,” he says holding the rope in his hands, “this is how close we came to losing you.”
What had been my lifeline is frayed so badly that the rope in one spot is down to a single strand that my brother-in-law proceeds to snap with his fingers.
On reflection. I think God was testing me that afternoon. I could easily have drowned if I hadn’t hit that rock, which stood me up providing time for others to help me in my distress. As I thought about my life ending in that river I asked myself, did I want to be just a restaurant manager or did I want to be a teacher of God’s children? I decided to take the position of Interim Director of Children’s Ministry.
Chris Cahill
Bradenton, Florida.
(The author has been Children's Pastor at South Shore Community Church since 2003-Ed)
On the drive from Florida to Cherokee, North Carolina my wife and I talk about the offer made by the pastor of our community church in Sarasota. He wants me to serve as Interim Children’s Director on a six-month trial basis. I have served the children’s ministry as a volunteer for several years while my paying position is managing a restaurant for a national chain. My heart is with the children but my head and my wife are saying it would be financially irresponsible to take an interim position for six months while a committee searches for a director. Besides, I would have to take a pay cut and with a wife and two children to support that would be fiscal stupidity.
We arrive at the campsite in a steady drizzle. Most of the families are gathered under a large tent fly. After lunch I decide to go fishing and thinking. The Raven has eight-foot banks opposite the campground and is relatively shallow ranging in dept from calf deep to waist deep. I put on waders and rain gear and proceed into the calm water. Most of the adults are playing cards under the tent fly while Pete, my brother-in-law, watches me fish from the bank.
I was so engrossed in fishing that I didn’t notice what was happening around me. I should have known if it is raining here it is pouring up river in the mountains. Within minutes the river rises from knee deep to waist deep and the water is turning a murky brown. Now I realize what is happening and I turn toward the near bank. This is a big mistake. The river is deeper on this side and my waders quickly fill with water and drag me under like a sinker. My waders hold me down while the rushing river pushes me downstream.
I am struggling to regain my footing and get to the surface. I'm in trouble. Suddenly I hit a rock with such force that it pops me upright like a bobber. I stand there, breathing heavily and deliberately leaning forward with the water pushing against my chest. I am unable to move. This is serious.
My brother-in-law is frantically yelling for the other men who soon appear on the bank above me. They lower an inflated tube with a rope tied to it but it doesn’t reach. me.
Next they throw the inner tube but it blows past me and is punctured somewhere downstream when it hits a sharp rock or pointed stump. Someone finds another piece of rope and ties it to the first rope. The men lower a now deflated tube tied on the longer rope. After a couple of attempts this one reaches me and I wrap the rope around my hand.
When the men pull on the rope I am immediately projected prone in the water and with the river pushing me and with my extra weight my rescuers are nearly pulled in on top of me. It takes all the strength of those ten men and older boys to hold me against the current. Gradually they ease me to the bank, which is terraced with rocks held in place by a wire mesh. I am able to grab a tree growing out of the bank and I hold on while some men crawl gingerly down the bank and help me out of the river.
Later standing on top of the embankment several of us watched logs, branches and other debris being propelled down river by the rushing water. A large log shot right over where I had been standing helpless against the river. That could have been fatal. I learned first hand the power of water and how fast things can change. I see now how people can be caught in a flash flood.
Pete interrupts my musings. “Chris you have to see this,” he says holding the rope in his hands, “this is how close we came to losing you.”
What had been my lifeline is frayed so badly that the rope in one spot is down to a single strand that my brother-in-law proceeds to snap with his fingers.
On reflection. I think God was testing me that afternoon. I could easily have drowned if I hadn’t hit that rock, which stood me up providing time for others to help me in my distress. As I thought about my life ending in that river I asked myself, did I want to be just a restaurant manager or did I want to be a teacher of God’s children? I decided to take the position of Interim Director of Children’s Ministry.
Chris Cahill
Bradenton, Florida.
(The author has been Children's Pastor at South Shore Community Church since 2003-Ed)
Chance Meetings
Chance Meetings?
The beginning of the year is a good time to look ahead and to make some changes. In my case I decided that twelve years working in the same piano store in Poughkeepsie, New York was long enough
I had gone about as far as I could go working in this family-owned store. Besides, twelve years of upstate New York winters was enough. It was time to move to Florida. When I informed Jon Vincitore, the owner of the store, he urged me to stay one more year. I agreed to stay until the fall.
In the spring I attended a national conference and met the owners of a piano store in Sarasota, Florida. They invited me down to Florida for an interview. I told a regular customer and former employee of the Poughkeepsie store, John DelVecchio, that I was going to Sarasota.
“Maybe you’ll bump into my cousin, Ray White. He can play the drum, guitar and he can sing. You’ll like him. He is doing construction right now somewhere in the Sarasota/Bradenton/Venice area.”
“Do you have a number I can call or an address?” He had neither.
In July I flew to Sarasota for my interview with the principles of O’Lynn Callahan Piano and Organ at the Corner of Bee Ridge and Tamiami Trail. The interview went well and I followed them to look at their new store in Venice, a twenty minute drive south. Before the morning was over we agreed I would manage their Venice store in the fall.
On the way back up Route 41 I was driving through Osprey when I saw a sign “Condo for Rent.” I stopped and within an hour I had made a deposit on it. I now had a job and a place to stay when I returned. I had accomplished in a half day what I thought would take me several days. Now it was time to look around.
I drove into Sarasota Square Mall. Walking through that mall I ran across a piano/organ store with several young men taking turns playing an organ set up in front of the store. As I lingered to watch a little guy walked up to me and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Oh,” I said, “ I’m just looking around. I just flew down from Poughkeepsie, N.Y. for an interview,”
“Poughkeepsie Huh? Do you happen to know John DelVecchio?” he asked.
“RAY? RAY WHITE?”
I don’t know who was more surprised, Ray. or me. Turns out he had left construction recently and this was his second day at this store. While neither of us was particularly religious at that point we both agreed our meeting this way, “Must be a God thing.” I still get goose bumps up and down my arms when I recall that moment.
Before moving to Florida I set out to say goodbye to family and special friends living in New York and New England. However, saying goodbye to Uncle Dennis was going to be a challenge. No one knew exactly where he was living, somewhere in the Berkshires was what I was told.
One day while driving the Mass Pike to return to Poughkeepsie I intentionally pulled off at the Lee/ Barrington exit for the Berkshires to see if I could find a phone book and locate Uncle Dennis. Besides I was hungry and wanted something to eat. Coming off the exit there is a town to the left and one to the right. It didn’t seem to matter which way I went but something made me feel I should go right. I drove passed several fast food drive-ins that I normally would have driven into and continued down main street to the end of the business district. There at the end was a diner with a single parking space open right in front.
As I walked up the steps to the entrance I saw there was one man sitting at the counter. The back of his head looked familiar. Could it be? It was him! I slipped in and sat beside the man at the counter and said casually, “Hello Dennis.”
He told me he lived in the town to the left of the exit but he often came to this diner. He especially liked the pies here. If I had tried to look him up in the phonebook I would not have found him. He didn’t have a phone. I had a nice visit with Dennis that day and actually returned two weeks later to his home where I presented him with a guitar that I knew he wanted.
Ray White and I became partners in a band and played together for several years in Florida. We also both became Christians and Ray is now a worship pastor at a church and goes on frequent missions trips to Africa. I play regularly at worship services for a church and I have also started my own company Worship Media Solutions helping churches with their sound and video needs.
As busy as I am, I try to stay attentive to any unexplained prodding or feelings. For example, the other day I left my house to get a haircut when I felt a strong urge to stop at the Living Word Book Store and see Jesse Ramos. So I drove out of my way to the bookstore. In the parking lot I passed a woman
walking to her car. I felt I should speak to her but I didn’t know what to say and being basically shy I walked by as she stopped and opened the trunk of a car. As I walked into the store there was Jesse at the counter holding my calling card in his hand and waving his arm at me.
“Hey Rick, what timing. There was a gal in here whose church needs your services. She just left.”
“She’s there putting something in her trunk,” I said.
He looked out the store window, “Yeah that’s her how did you know?”
How did I know? How do I explain my bumping into Ray White out of the thousands of people who live and work in Sarasota County? What directed me to that diner in the Berkshires that afternoon I found Uncle Dennis? Why did needing to see Jesse Ramos come to my mind when I started off for a haircut?
Were these all chance meetings? I don’t think so, not for a minute.
Rick Furrow
Formerly Poughkeepsie, New York
now Sarasota, Florida
The beginning of the year is a good time to look ahead and to make some changes. In my case I decided that twelve years working in the same piano store in Poughkeepsie, New York was long enough
I had gone about as far as I could go working in this family-owned store. Besides, twelve years of upstate New York winters was enough. It was time to move to Florida. When I informed Jon Vincitore, the owner of the store, he urged me to stay one more year. I agreed to stay until the fall.
In the spring I attended a national conference and met the owners of a piano store in Sarasota, Florida. They invited me down to Florida for an interview. I told a regular customer and former employee of the Poughkeepsie store, John DelVecchio, that I was going to Sarasota.
“Maybe you’ll bump into my cousin, Ray White. He can play the drum, guitar and he can sing. You’ll like him. He is doing construction right now somewhere in the Sarasota/Bradenton/Venice area.”
“Do you have a number I can call or an address?” He had neither.
In July I flew to Sarasota for my interview with the principles of O’Lynn Callahan Piano and Organ at the Corner of Bee Ridge and Tamiami Trail. The interview went well and I followed them to look at their new store in Venice, a twenty minute drive south. Before the morning was over we agreed I would manage their Venice store in the fall.
On the way back up Route 41 I was driving through Osprey when I saw a sign “Condo for Rent.” I stopped and within an hour I had made a deposit on it. I now had a job and a place to stay when I returned. I had accomplished in a half day what I thought would take me several days. Now it was time to look around.
I drove into Sarasota Square Mall. Walking through that mall I ran across a piano/organ store with several young men taking turns playing an organ set up in front of the store. As I lingered to watch a little guy walked up to me and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Oh,” I said, “ I’m just looking around. I just flew down from Poughkeepsie, N.Y. for an interview,”
“Poughkeepsie Huh? Do you happen to know John DelVecchio?” he asked.
“RAY? RAY WHITE?”
I don’t know who was more surprised, Ray. or me. Turns out he had left construction recently and this was his second day at this store. While neither of us was particularly religious at that point we both agreed our meeting this way, “Must be a God thing.” I still get goose bumps up and down my arms when I recall that moment.
Before moving to Florida I set out to say goodbye to family and special friends living in New York and New England. However, saying goodbye to Uncle Dennis was going to be a challenge. No one knew exactly where he was living, somewhere in the Berkshires was what I was told.
One day while driving the Mass Pike to return to Poughkeepsie I intentionally pulled off at the Lee/ Barrington exit for the Berkshires to see if I could find a phone book and locate Uncle Dennis. Besides I was hungry and wanted something to eat. Coming off the exit there is a town to the left and one to the right. It didn’t seem to matter which way I went but something made me feel I should go right. I drove passed several fast food drive-ins that I normally would have driven into and continued down main street to the end of the business district. There at the end was a diner with a single parking space open right in front.
As I walked up the steps to the entrance I saw there was one man sitting at the counter. The back of his head looked familiar. Could it be? It was him! I slipped in and sat beside the man at the counter and said casually, “Hello Dennis.”
He told me he lived in the town to the left of the exit but he often came to this diner. He especially liked the pies here. If I had tried to look him up in the phonebook I would not have found him. He didn’t have a phone. I had a nice visit with Dennis that day and actually returned two weeks later to his home where I presented him with a guitar that I knew he wanted.
Ray White and I became partners in a band and played together for several years in Florida. We also both became Christians and Ray is now a worship pastor at a church and goes on frequent missions trips to Africa. I play regularly at worship services for a church and I have also started my own company Worship Media Solutions helping churches with their sound and video needs.
As busy as I am, I try to stay attentive to any unexplained prodding or feelings. For example, the other day I left my house to get a haircut when I felt a strong urge to stop at the Living Word Book Store and see Jesse Ramos. So I drove out of my way to the bookstore. In the parking lot I passed a woman
walking to her car. I felt I should speak to her but I didn’t know what to say and being basically shy I walked by as she stopped and opened the trunk of a car. As I walked into the store there was Jesse at the counter holding my calling card in his hand and waving his arm at me.
“Hey Rick, what timing. There was a gal in here whose church needs your services. She just left.”
“She’s there putting something in her trunk,” I said.
He looked out the store window, “Yeah that’s her how did you know?”
How did I know? How do I explain my bumping into Ray White out of the thousands of people who live and work in Sarasota County? What directed me to that diner in the Berkshires that afternoon I found Uncle Dennis? Why did needing to see Jesse Ramos come to my mind when I started off for a haircut?
Were these all chance meetings? I don’t think so, not for a minute.
Rick Furrow
Formerly Poughkeepsie, New York
now Sarasota, Florida
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