November 2011
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
(Editors Note: Andrea, now a mother of four, runs a day care business in Florida near her parents.)
Copyright Go Figure Sarasota/Bradenton reprinted with permission.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Masters Quartet
We were on our way back to Fayetteville NC from Augusta, Georgia where we sang to about 700 people in the First Baptist Church when our old bus broke down along I-95 somewhere in South Carolina. We thought at first we had blown a tire but then we realized the engine was still running but it wouldn’t go in gear.
Our piano player Earl Britt said,” the only thing I know to do is to start praying.”
We are on our knees when there is a knock on the side of the bus. I get up and go to the door and here is an elderly gentleman with a straw hat, white shirt and bib overalls and a sports jacket. He says you boys a quartet? Now we’ve got letters on the side of the bus that are three feet high that say Masters Quartet. I chuckled and said Yes Sir. He says would you boys be able to sing tonight?
I was just getting ready to tell him no, when my younger brother Tommy jerked me out of the way and says. “Yes sir we will but we can’t go, our bus broke down.”
He says, “That’s no problem, I can be back in about 15 minutes. with some trucks to take you and your equipment to my house. In about twenty minutes he came back with two Ford Stake trucks. a station wagon and a wrecker.
I told the wrecker driver that we didn’t have any money and to leave the bus be. The love offering we received from the Baptist church was only $50 and between us we didn’t have $200.We all pile in the trucks and station wagon and go to the preacher’s house which is out n the country about 30 miles from the interstate.
When we arrive his wife has dinner ready for us. The food was set up on two long tables. We finish eating and watch a little TV. What we didn’t know was that this preacher, his wife and two children all had separate telephone lines and were calling people and telling them to be at the church at 6:30.
We learn that Pastor Reed had been a preacher for an Assembly of God church in Indiana. When his parents died he had come to South Carolina to live on their farm. When the pastor of the local Presbyterian church died he was asked if he would fill in. He’s been filling in for several years now.
When we get to this old wooden church in the middle of a tobacco field it is packed. After singing about five songs the preacher tells us to go back to where the refreshments are as he is going to take up a love offering for us. After what happened at the First Baptist church I’m kind of leery and I stand by the door.
When the ushers come forward with the plates he looks over the podium and says,“that ain’t goner work…these boys sang at a big Baptist church in Augusta and they got $50…that ain’t happenin here. Now I’m sending these ushers back out and when they come back if these plates aren’t full I’m gonna tell what I know and who I know it on.”
They finish the collection and call us back out and we sing a little more and the last song we did was Sinner Saved by Grace. We use that as our altar call.
As the preacher is praying this little blonde haired girl comes running down the aisle to ask God to save her. She had run away from home and had been gone for sometime and had returned home and asked her mommy and daddy to forgive her and they said if God has forgiven you we will. And that is why she was running to the altar to ask God to forgive her and become her Savior.
After all was said and done our piano player says to me, “Is that our bus I hear running outside?” I look out the door and there is the wrecker driver standing by our bus in greasy overalls with his hat in his hand.
I say, “you fixed it.”
He says, “Yep.”
“How much do we owe you?”
“You owe us nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
He says, “that little girl who just went to the altar is my daughter. She wouldn’t have come if y’all hadn’t been here tonight.”
I asked him what was wrong with our bus and he says all the bolts on the fly wheel had fallen out and were laying in the dust pan.
“ Wait a minute. I’m mechanic enough to know that bolts don’t fall out of a flywheel, especially on a bus. They have locking caps on them and they don’t fall out, you have to drill them out.”
He says, “Every one of them was laying in the pan and not a threat on anyone of them was torn off. God backed the bolts out of that flywheel so you would be here so my daughter would hear the singing and your testimony that you brought here tonight.”
As we drove home I opened the envelope containing our love offering. We counted out coins and small bills totaling $ 1200. .
About four months later we got a phone call from Preacher Reed who said they were trying to raise money to build a new church. He wanted a gospel sing and would we help. We got three and four other groups we knew and we drove to South Carolina to sing in the middle of a football field standing on a flatbed trailer. That night they raised over $100,000.
They built the church and invited us back to sing at their first service. When we pulled up in front of the church there was a big piece of marble block on the Northeast corner of the building. Inscribed on that block was Masters Quartet and they listed all ten names in our group, the four singers, the five musicians, and our bus driver.
We kept in touch over the years and we went back and sang at Preacher Reed’s funeral. He had filled in for 15 years.
Lee Bissette
Tamaron, Sarasota,Fl.
Our piano player Earl Britt said,” the only thing I know to do is to start praying.”
We are on our knees when there is a knock on the side of the bus. I get up and go to the door and here is an elderly gentleman with a straw hat, white shirt and bib overalls and a sports jacket. He says you boys a quartet? Now we’ve got letters on the side of the bus that are three feet high that say Masters Quartet. I chuckled and said Yes Sir. He says would you boys be able to sing tonight?
I was just getting ready to tell him no, when my younger brother Tommy jerked me out of the way and says. “Yes sir we will but we can’t go, our bus broke down.”
He says, “That’s no problem, I can be back in about 15 minutes. with some trucks to take you and your equipment to my house. In about twenty minutes he came back with two Ford Stake trucks. a station wagon and a wrecker.
I told the wrecker driver that we didn’t have any money and to leave the bus be. The love offering we received from the Baptist church was only $50 and between us we didn’t have $200.We all pile in the trucks and station wagon and go to the preacher’s house which is out n the country about 30 miles from the interstate.
When we arrive his wife has dinner ready for us. The food was set up on two long tables. We finish eating and watch a little TV. What we didn’t know was that this preacher, his wife and two children all had separate telephone lines and were calling people and telling them to be at the church at 6:30.
We learn that Pastor Reed had been a preacher for an Assembly of God church in Indiana. When his parents died he had come to South Carolina to live on their farm. When the pastor of the local Presbyterian church died he was asked if he would fill in. He’s been filling in for several years now.
When we get to this old wooden church in the middle of a tobacco field it is packed. After singing about five songs the preacher tells us to go back to where the refreshments are as he is going to take up a love offering for us. After what happened at the First Baptist church I’m kind of leery and I stand by the door.
When the ushers come forward with the plates he looks over the podium and says,“that ain’t goner work…these boys sang at a big Baptist church in Augusta and they got $50…that ain’t happenin here. Now I’m sending these ushers back out and when they come back if these plates aren’t full I’m gonna tell what I know and who I know it on.”
They finish the collection and call us back out and we sing a little more and the last song we did was Sinner Saved by Grace. We use that as our altar call.
As the preacher is praying this little blonde haired girl comes running down the aisle to ask God to save her. She had run away from home and had been gone for sometime and had returned home and asked her mommy and daddy to forgive her and they said if God has forgiven you we will. And that is why she was running to the altar to ask God to forgive her and become her Savior.
After all was said and done our piano player says to me, “Is that our bus I hear running outside?” I look out the door and there is the wrecker driver standing by our bus in greasy overalls with his hat in his hand.
I say, “you fixed it.”
He says, “Yep.”
“How much do we owe you?”
“You owe us nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
He says, “that little girl who just went to the altar is my daughter. She wouldn’t have come if y’all hadn’t been here tonight.”
I asked him what was wrong with our bus and he says all the bolts on the fly wheel had fallen out and were laying in the dust pan.
“ Wait a minute. I’m mechanic enough to know that bolts don’t fall out of a flywheel, especially on a bus. They have locking caps on them and they don’t fall out, you have to drill them out.”
He says, “Every one of them was laying in the pan and not a threat on anyone of them was torn off. God backed the bolts out of that flywheel so you would be here so my daughter would hear the singing and your testimony that you brought here tonight.”
As we drove home I opened the envelope containing our love offering. We counted out coins and small bills totaling $ 1200. .
About four months later we got a phone call from Preacher Reed who said they were trying to raise money to build a new church. He wanted a gospel sing and would we help. We got three and four other groups we knew and we drove to South Carolina to sing in the middle of a football field standing on a flatbed trailer. That night they raised over $100,000.
They built the church and invited us back to sing at their first service. When we pulled up in front of the church there was a big piece of marble block on the Northeast corner of the building. Inscribed on that block was Masters Quartet and they listed all ten names in our group, the four singers, the five musicians, and our bus driver.
We kept in touch over the years and we went back and sang at Preacher Reed’s funeral. He had filled in for 15 years.
Lee Bissette
Tamaron, Sarasota,Fl.
Friday, July 8, 2011
"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,Florida
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,Florida
Sunday, May 22, 2011
I Saw Your Kids
May 23,2011
My Mother, Mary, was diagnosed with lung cancer in February 1989. In May she professed her faith in Jesus Christ. We all celebrated this decision.
On a subsequent visit to my parents home on Eugene street in Sarasota, my wife Linda had a conversation with my Mom that we will never forget.
I was in the living room with my dad and Linda when in the bedroom to see Mary. She was sitting up in bed crocheting with her back against the wall.
As Linda entered the room mom looked up and said, “Hi Linda, I saw your kids today.”
My wife found this a peculiar greeting since we had been married for 13 years and had no children although we both wanted them.
My youngest sister, also named Linda, had three children, two girls and a boy. My wife said, “Don’t you mean your daughter, Linda’s children Mary?”
My Mom looked up and said emphatically, “I know who I am talking too. You are Mark’s wife. Linda I saw your children today, a boy and a girl.” My Mom returned to her crocheting.
Linda told me about this odd conversation on the drive back to our home in Sarasota Springs. Mom’s cancer matastized and she succumbed to the disease a few weeks later.
Less than two years later my wife became pregnant. Many of our friends said, since she had been married so long (15 years) without a child she was probably going to have a girl. Linda told them no, it is going to be a boy. In October 1991 our son Joseph was born.
In August 1993, after more than 17 years of marriage, Linda gave birth to our daughter Lauren.
Mark Walker
Sarasota
My Mother, Mary, was diagnosed with lung cancer in February 1989. In May she professed her faith in Jesus Christ. We all celebrated this decision.
On a subsequent visit to my parents home on Eugene street in Sarasota, my wife Linda had a conversation with my Mom that we will never forget.
I was in the living room with my dad and Linda when in the bedroom to see Mary. She was sitting up in bed crocheting with her back against the wall.
As Linda entered the room mom looked up and said, “Hi Linda, I saw your kids today.”
My wife found this a peculiar greeting since we had been married for 13 years and had no children although we both wanted them.
My youngest sister, also named Linda, had three children, two girls and a boy. My wife said, “Don’t you mean your daughter, Linda’s children Mary?”
My Mom looked up and said emphatically, “I know who I am talking too. You are Mark’s wife. Linda I saw your children today, a boy and a girl.” My Mom returned to her crocheting.
Linda told me about this odd conversation on the drive back to our home in Sarasota Springs. Mom’s cancer matastized and she succumbed to the disease a few weeks later.
Less than two years later my wife became pregnant. Many of our friends said, since she had been married so long (15 years) without a child she was probably going to have a girl. Linda told them no, it is going to be a boy. In October 1991 our son Joseph was born.
In August 1993, after more than 17 years of marriage, Linda gave birth to our daughter Lauren.
Mark Walker
Sarasota
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Memorable Experience
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. With this in mind, I share my family’s experience in Washington, D.C. on June 25, 2006.
I had been invited to a medical meeting in our nation’s capital and my wife Lisa and our two younger children, Sam (11) and Lydia (7) came along to visit the monuments and see the 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.
On our first full day in D.C. we walked from our hotel toward the White House. As we approached Lafayette Square, a block from the White House, we were struck by a small but quaint St. John’s church where every U.S. president since Madison has worshipped. It has come to be known as “the Presidents’ Church.” I was sensing a strange inexplicable compulsion to go inside.
No one was inside except an “official-looking” lady on a cell phone. 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.”
We were determined to be there Sunday. Sam 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. 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.
. 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 had to wait for bomb-sniffing dogs to finish their work before we went through security. Hardly anyone was there. We estimated 30 people; at least half were probably secret service
At 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 say anything else to the President.
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 gave 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 receive 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 thanked me 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. We didn’t mind. We had just been showered with blessings 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. I believe the Psalm would have been a great comfort to him.
Ronald Aung-Din
Sarasota
I had been invited to a medical meeting in our nation’s capital and my wife Lisa and our two younger children, Sam (11) and Lydia (7) came along to visit the monuments and see the 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.
On our first full day in D.C. we walked from our hotel toward the White House. As we approached Lafayette Square, a block from the White House, we were struck by a small but quaint St. John’s church where every U.S. president since Madison has worshipped. It has come to be known as “the Presidents’ Church.” I was sensing a strange inexplicable compulsion to go inside.
No one was inside except an “official-looking” lady on a cell phone. 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.”
We were determined to be there Sunday. Sam 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. 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.
. 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 had to wait for bomb-sniffing dogs to finish their work before we went through security. Hardly anyone was there. We estimated 30 people; at least half were probably secret service
At 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 say anything else to the President.
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 gave 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 receive 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 thanked me 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. We didn’t mind. We had just been showered with blessings 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. I believe the Psalm would have been a great comfort to him.
Ronald Aung-Din
Sarasota
Sunday, January 23, 2011
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 18 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
“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 18 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
“Copyright©2003, Sarasota Herald-Tribune.Reprinted with express permission of the Sarasota-Herald Tribune.”
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)