What a cliché come true. Yet putting it in a more prominent place was fitting. Here it would receive the attention it deserves.

The ceramic baby lay in a ceramic manger among other figurines. The only thing real in this Bethlehem setting was the straw I’d scattered around.

As I stood there taking in the shepherd sheep and donkey, the Moravian star, and angels, I became a visitor following along with the wisemen and Santa children bearing gifts. Only my hands are empty. I have nothing to give.

LORD, help me understand the meaning of Christmas.

Divine Prince-to-Pauper

I know at Christmas my King left His throne in Heaven disguised as a lowly human— a sort of Divine Prince-to-Pauper— to communicate God’s love for all people. But not all people believe in Him. Would God love us enough to lower Himself to reside in a weak, fleshly body? Would He willingly leave His heavenly throne, where He ruled overall, to experience hunger, thirst, cold, heat, and poverty? To be weary and sad? Would He come knowing in the end, He would experience humiliation, rejection, betrayal, unfair judgement, conviction, and the penalty of affliction, and death?

Would your god do all that?

My God, the one true God, did.

Though as Immanuel (God with us), His human body was weak and vulnerable to pain, He possessed a powerful, Divine Spirit. He willingly came to suffer in my place. He knew He would rise victorious, conquering death and the grave. And not just for Himself, but for all who believe.

Believers know God is God, but our believing isn’t what makes Him true. He is real whether we believe it, or not.

What Christmas Means to Me.

I’ve realized that God is the gift giver, not me. Christmas is God’s gift. And that Gift is Jesus Christ our LORD. I can only open that gift through faith. “And without Faith, it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him.” Hebrews 11:6. My gift to God is to open His gift to me.

What Does Christmas mean to you?

The end of 2023 is upon us and 2024 soon begins. Did you open God’s Christmas gift to you?

Come on back and share a slice of life.

Remember, wherever you are, you are at the right place when you come to my website and read my blog. (Please respond in the comment section below.)

The post WHAT IS CHRISTMAS ANYWAY? appeared first on Shelia Shook.

The air became charged with a strange power.

I remember when as a teenager I prayed with my mom beside her bed on our knees. As we prayed, the air became charged with a strange power and light that extended from a far distance, and we saw like a vision of God, Himself. There wasn’t really a feature we could describe. It was too bright to see clearly. But there was a definite divine power radiating from the source. We looked at one another and held hands, clinging to one another as we watched and waited to see what would happen.

The image grew closer….

I remember we both stared toward the head of her bed, and as the image grew closer, we became giddy in the awesome fear yet profound delight that overcame us. Later, we agreed how our hearts pounded and we entered a trance-like state. The bedroom seemed to disappear, and we were alone with the charged atmosphere and multicolored light. It appeared to move toward us—beautiful and bright. Overwhelmed with feelings, both wonderful and fearsome, my heart swelled, and my breath taken away.

A mixture of awe and fear.

The light withdrew, and Moma and I were left sitting on the floor beside her bed in amazement. Somehow, we knew if the Presence had gotten closer, we neither could have withstood it. Remembering it today, I realize that the mixture of awe and fear were such that no one can endure coming face to face with the physical, holy, and mighty presence of God.  It must be why The Father sent Jesus, who could interact with us, suffer for us, and when He arose, He sent The Holy Spirit in His place to speak to us and for us—to fill us with courage and knowledge of Him. I suppose if we encountered the Trinity all together at one time, we would not survive. The power and light are too much for us. God knows how close we can get to The Three-In-One without exploding.

Who would believe us?

That beautiful prayer time became a bond that my mother and I shared over the next fifty years. I’m sure it influenced my trust and reverent fear of a Holy God. I don’t know why, but we rarely spoke of it with others through the years. We could never really describe the depth of what happened. We weren’t sure anyone could truly understand how amazing it was, or even believe us. But we knew it was real—shared and confirmed by each other. And now as I remember it in such detail, I find myself back there, on my knees, praying with my Moma again. Only she is now with the Holy Presence we encountered. Now, in her spiritual body, she can come closer to God with reverential fear and not be afraid.

Thank you, Jesus for calling up this memory. I can celebrate the experience we shared again, knowing positively Moma is there with You, LORD.

If you have ever experienced a time such as this, please write. We’d love to hear from you.

Remember, you are at the right place when you come to my website and read my blog. Come on back and share a slice of life with us.

The post My Out-of-Body Experience with The Divine appeared first on Shelia Shook.

Have you ever felt like your prayers were dry? Cold?

Sometimes I shoot out bullet prayers. Quick, short and to the point: “God watch over this person.” Or “Thank you Lord for protecting me from that wreck I almost had.”  “Forgive me God. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Or I might see a homeless person and pray, “LORD I don’t know their circumstances, but you do. Be with them, give them peace and help them find shelter and warmth in You.” I might see a hitchhiker and pray, “LORD be with that person and with anyone who picks them up. Keep them both safe. I pray they are neither one evil. “

At times I lay awake at night and pray. “LORD, here I am again. I can’t sleep. Lots of things are on my mind.” I run names through my mind like counting sheep, trying to focus so I can rest my thoughts. I pray for forgiveness and for Him to help me to help others, and to care about others more. “

I just tell God things throughout the day and during the night when thoughts pop up. I’m talking to God, and that is prayer, isn’t it? Maybe. I like to think it’s what Paul meant when he said, “pray without ceasing?” But is that an excuse for not spending more extended time with God?

I don’t know. I only know that I’m hungry for more. I’m hungry for the satisfaction of feeling God’s Spirit move me when I pray. I want to feel His presence so intensely that I get chill bumps. To shed tears of joy or of conviction. To have an emotional experience.

If I’m praying all the time over everything I see in the news or see on the side of the road and if I’m asking God to do things for me and others, but don’t hear Him speak back, how do I know He hears me? How do I know He cares?

And yet you know what?

He does speak back. Even now I hear Him saying how He hears me–that He speaks to me through His word, through nature, circumstances and through other believers. I’m just not listening.

I do Bible studies and read teacher’s and preacher’s opinions and examine their interpretations of what scripture says, but unless I read it for myself daily, I find sporadic reading of this scripture and that, is like nibbling. I’m not getting a full meal and therefore, I’m missing the full satisfaction of God‘s word.

How do you pray?

Bullet prayers? How do you spend your quiet time? Nibbling on God’s word? Or do you get nourished with a full meal? Sometimes, I write in my journal, bring concerns to the LORD, and read a daily Bible verse, but again it’s just nibbling, not really getting what I need. I’m not being fed when I dabble. I’m hungry so when I’m not satisfied, what do I do? I go grab some chips or chocolate, but what I need to do is grab some chapters out of the scripture. Not just a verse or two.

What does it say about me that I’m not satisfied with my prayer life? That after sixty some-odd years of being a Christian that I still struggle with prayer? Do you struggle? I may not have the formula down, but I know I talk to God, and I know that is what prayer is and I trust/have faith that He hears me and will answer me if I listen. I also know listening involves reading bigger chunks of His word.

Bless the Lord oh my soul and all that is within me, bless His holy name. Bless the Lord oh my soul and forget not all His benefits for He pardons me, He heals me, He redeems me, He crowns me, He satisfies me, and He renews me. Psalms 103: 1-5

Father, God let me turn to You more. Let me feed on your word, memorize it, and help me remember it’s okay to hunger for You, LORD. It doesn’t mean I am not close to you. It just means I want to be even closer. As the deer pants for streams of water so my soul pants for You, God. Psalms 42:1

Hope you, my friends, are inspired to seek God in bigger chunks of time and bigger chunks of His word.

Remember, you are at the right place when you come to my website and read my blog. Come on back and share a slice of life with me.

The post Do You Ever Hunger for God? appeared first on Shelia Shook.

What would you tell your younger self?

Me? I’d say, “Hold on! Life gets better. Way better.” In my last blog post, LOVING THE ONE YOU FEAR, June 2, 2020, I shared the story of Jill and Dan. Jill couldn’t stay with Dan. She had to leave because he was a danger to her life and that of her children. Before you decide to stay or go, pray for wisdom, and don’t stay without God.

However, if your life is not in danger, persevere in your marriage. Don’t quit. Be persistent in making it work.  Marriage is hard when you can’t see light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. You’re wounded and unhappy. You want a solution NOW! But hold on. God is working in the background. He is working through our struggles. Be patient. Be at peace. And have hope with confidence. Confidence in God, not your spouse. Trust me, it’s worth it.

For Bill and me, the later years have been the best. We’ve learned to trust in God more and have really learned a lot from the difficulties in our life—in our marriage.

My husband has been endearingly faithful, protective, kind, gentle, and generous. And he’s always been a hardworking, capable provider. So much so, that Bill became a workaholic. Everything he did was to provide for his family. He spent hours building customer relations and proving himself at his job to guarantee a good income. He felt that was the best way to show his love and care for his family. A lesson he’d learned from his father who worked two jobs so their family would have what they needed.

Bill’s long hours of entertaining customers all week weighed its toll on him. He was not a raging alcoholic but became what is called a problem drinker. The difference: he wasn’t dependent on alcohol, and it didn’t interfere with his job or his ability to function. Bill rarely drank at home, but still it effected our lives. Just as many of you may have experienced or know someone who suffers with an alcohol problem, it impacts everyone around you. Regardless of severity, drinking can lead to alcoholism. Seek help. Al-anon helped me.

Bill was hardly ever home during the week, but we had great weekends together. I loved him and believed he loved me too, yet my friends were saying, “You need to leave;” “You’re wasting your young years on a lost cause;” “He’ll never change.” I didn’t know what to do. Plagued with indecision and fraught with worry and sorrow about the future, I had turned to 1 Corinthians 13:7 where Apostle Paul says “Love bears all things. Believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” Broken, I cried out to God. I wanted to have hope and endure, but how could I go on day after day? I needed a friend to say, “hang in there.” I felt no one cared, but I was wrong. God cared. Just when my twenty-eight-year-old self-reached the end of hope, God was the friend I needed. He said, “Hold on. Don’t give up.”

It isn’t often someone hears a clear word from God, but I know I heard Him plainly say, “Bill has a long way to go and a lot of things to go through, but he will be okay. You will be okay.” A strange peace washed over me. My sobs turned into laughter. Very nearly hysterical laughter. Everything would be okay! I trusted God and His promise helped me through many trials. He was right, of course. (Afterall He is God). Bill had a lot to go through and it took a while. I had to go through those trials too. But I was able to find hope in that promise when I would lay awake at two a.m. worried because Bill wasn’t home yet. Bill came home safely every time.

I’d cling to God’s words when we struggled through a crisis of debt, when our daughter ran away three times before she was fifteen, when our oldest son spent a year in the hospital, when Bill’s mother died, when my father died, and when we lost our daughter, (A SINGLE FLOWER April 18, 2019), and took on parenting her two girls. I feared Bill would go off the deep end, but with each event God reminded me of His promise.

God can see the path we are on and the paths of our loved ones. Trust Him, He’s at work behind the scenes. Be patient. Pray for wisdom and have hope. And if you hear God speak, be obedient. He told me to stay and I’m thankful I did.

You see, over time, things improved as Bill took small but important steps. First, he admitted he had a drinking problem. I watched him battle to overcome it. He’d make plans and promises to come home, then a client would derail him. But at least now, he called me to say he’d be late, and if he couldn’t drive home, he’d ask me to come get him. What a relief from my worry of his drinking and driving. He often found victory more than defeat. We began praying together and talking about the Lord. Then, one year on November 1^st he decided to quit smoking cold turkey, not an easy task, (for either of us.) The next year, on November 1^st, he determined to quit taking customers out and started coming home after work. This meant he quit drinking too. The following year, in November, he found out he was diabetic and gave up sugar. Each year, each step, brought us closer as he gave up weaknesses. (The next November I secretly wondered what he’d give up next, sex?)

It was amazing how God was with us through each phase of life. I often praise God as I marvel at the turns our lives have taken. For me, the pinnacle of Bill’s transformation came one night, as we were leaving Walmart and he pulled out a CD he had purchased.

“This is for you,” he said. “There’s a song on it for you.” he explained as we got into the car. Bill found the track he wanted and pressed play. Sitting in the Walmart parking lot we listened, and I cried as Aaron Neville sang, “I Owe You One.”

Especially these lyrics:

Walk me back down those streets again. Stop me right at the moment when you stood there talking to a stranger. Tell me how you looked at me and knew the very best that I could be. How did you see this happy ending? Standing by your side, I’m still surprised. I try to say it right, but I guess sometimes the words don’t come, and I wish I’d told you how you changed my life and saved me with your love. I hope when all is said and done, you know I owe you one. One for life and one for love and all you’ve given me. For the dreams you made me dream again, and all that we can be.

Years later looking back, I see the beauty of it all. The way God orchestrated our lives to make them better. These lyrics still bring tears to my eyes. And to think I almost missed out on this beautiful love story.  Almost listened to well-meaning friends. Almost gave up.

In those early years, I needed a friend to say, “Hang in there.” I didn’t feel I had one. But God was that friend I needed. He was there all along. Maybe today, you need a friend. I am here to tell you He is the best friend you will ever have. I’d like to be a friend for you too. I’d like to say, “Hold on. Persevere. The best is yet to come.”

Remember wherever you are you are at the right place when you come to my website and read my blog. Come on back and share a slice of life with me.

If you or someone in your family have a drinking problem, contact AA.org for help/listing of local meetings, or Al-anon.org for help/listing of local meetings (or call 1888-425-2666)

The post PERSEVERE appeared first on Shelia Shook.

Here we are in the middle of January and I’ve yet to even start my new routine or work toward goals for 2020. How about you? Are you still recovering from Christmas and the whirlwind of 2019?

I have been pondering 2019 and considering what I am most thankful for in my life. I have a comfortable home, a loving family, too much food to eat, friends and a strong faith life. And though I want to complain, I have a rewarding job. I am thankful for all of these things but find myself grumbling at times when I really should be appreciative.

I have been working overtime since New Years’ eve. Between working, sleeping and keeping up with documentation, I’ve had little time or energy for much else. This is exactly why I start my year in February instead of January. I think we all need January to recoup and regroup from end of the year activities and the Holidays before we can jump into new routines and plans. And for me, working extra hours only makes it more difficult.

As a child, whenever I would complain about trouble with anything, my mom would say, “Count your blessings. See what is good about it. Be thankful.” Then she would quote this scripture from Philippians 4:8—”Whatsoever is .  .  .  pure and lovely, think on these things.” Though she usually left off the part that says whatever is “true, noble, and just,” and though she didn’t always apply these instructions to herself, she taught me to look on the bright side, to adjust my attitude. I sometimes felt she put her head in the sand and didn’t want to look at the news or anything negative. But I guess she’d had enough of that in her life.

In her late seventies Mom began to say she was most thankful for running water. She repeated that every so often as though it was the chorus of a song. She tells of the years when she and her older sister, Grace carried five-gallon buckets of water up the hill from the pond below their one room house. I can see the two young girls struggling to balance the big heavy bucket between them as they slipped and sloshed up the hill, emptying nearly half of the bucket on the way up, meaning even more grueling trips back to the pond for more. The red muddy water was used to wash, bathe and clean with. They had to haul drinking and cooking water from town in large, metal milk cans that Poppa tied to the back of the Ford Model T truck. They filled those old cans at Gerber’s Filling Station (called a gas station now) using a water hose. Today, we don’t allow our children to drink from the water hose. The little ten and thirteen-year-old girls worked hard in their young years as many of our parents and grandparents did.

Grace twisted the clothes as she pulled them out of the red soapy water and dropped them over into the rinse bucket. Little Lottie sloshed the underwear and socks in the cloudy water and pulled out one of her socks. She wrung it out and held it up to the sun and frowned.

“What’s wrong with my new bobby socks?” she asked. She stared and then she cried, “Oh no, my new white bobby socks are ruined,” The red muddy water had stained them. Everything she had tended to be that same rusty-peach color. And now her new white socks looked like everything else. In the winter, the red color even stained her knees, elbows, and ankles. It didn’t help to take a bath if your water was going to make your skin look dirty.

Growing up with that red water touched her in a way that made her appreciate fresh clean water, and having to haul water by the buckets several times a day made her appreciate indoor plumbing, for more reasons than no longer having to use an outhouse. She remembers feeling unloved and neglected because her momma died when she was nine and other little girls had clean, white bobby socks and ruffles, and someone to braid their hair. She felt her red ankles and unruly hair made her an outcast, and she didn’t have a momma to help her. Jealous of her friends with momma’s and white bobby socks her altered her self-image and friendships. As she grew older and a mother herself, she wanted her kids to have better than she had. We still drank out of the water hose, but we had hand-made clothes, fresh rolled hair, perms (ugh) and frills we wouldn’t have had without her. Our bath water was clean, but we only used a quarter of the tub. I didn’t know what a full bathtub was like until I was married.   

We often take things like running water for granted. Plumbing, electricity and air conditioning are the most basic household needs, but the least appreciated until we don’t have them available. I know when the electricity is out due to a storm (or rain here in the country of Kenefick, Texas) it means my water use is limited. Since my water well needs electricity, I can’t run as much water. And of course, no AC. Otherwise, I find myself allowing the water to run while I brush my teeth, and I always fill up the tub when I want a bath versus a shower. People leave their doors open while the AC works to keep the house cool and just stand staring with the refrigerator door open. We leave appliances plugged in when not being used (which still draws electricity) and we leave lights on all night. I’m really not a “Green” person, but I know I take for granted and waste what my mother and father had to work hard to have. You have to admit, we are a spoiled bunch of Americans. Good parenting includes teaching our children to look for things they can be thankful for in all situations. Let’s be truly appreciative ourselves by preserving our resources for our children.

What are you thankful for? When you consider your life, what has made the most improvement over the years? What could you do to pass your appreciation on to the next generation?

I’d like to start having a “Thankful Thursday” blog post every week. Please send me things you are thankful for and why.

Remember, where ever you are, you are at the right place when you come to my website and read my blog. Come on back and share a slice of life with me.

The post BEING THANKFUL appeared first on Shelia Shook.

There was a time in my life when I was frightened of everything. My fear was irrational. It overcame me. Even in the middle of the day, I’d check the closets and under the beds. I was startled at everything. At night, I’d wake up and turn the light on to make sure it was my husband in bed with me and not a stranger. I don’t know about you, but I believe in forces of evil as well as good, so when a friend told me I needed to bombard my mind and house with God’s word, I was ready. She said I had a spirit of fear oppressing me, and I believed it. Desperate, I was ready to try anything. I know it sounds weird, but with my Bible in hand, I walked through every room in my house and prayed for God to cleanse it. I told the old devil he didn’t have a place there and he had to go. KSBJ Christian Radio had just started up and I kept it on continuously, keeping the praises of God and His word ever present in my home. Yes, my family thought I’d lost my mind.

Soon, I began to feel relief. I no longer felt compelled to check closets and under the beds. I no longer woke my husband turning the light on in the middle of the night to be sure it was him and not some stranger in my bed. I continued to play KSBJ and prayed regularly, and I thought the worst of my battle with fear was over. Then, an old friend, Estelle, came for a visit. I shared my relief to no longer struggle with fear, but she wasn’t convinced. She challenged me to go to our new undeveloped, wooded property after dark alone. (Remember, in those days, we didn’t have cell phones.) I told her I couldn’t. “But what if God, Himself, asked you to do it?” I still couldn’t and it nagged me for months. A sense of fear once again began to overwhelm me.

That October my boys wanted to attend a Bonfire being held on the road near our undeveloped acreage. After I dropped them off, I unwillingly turned the car toward our new property. My palms grew sweaty and my heart raced. I couldn’t believe it. I was doing this now! In October no less, the scariest month of the year. I passed the last house on the way to our land and watched from the rearview mirror as their porch light grew smaller until it finally disappeared. My last link with civilization, gone. Let me tell you it was DARK.

No other houses had yet been built that last mile. Thick woods ran deep on either side of the narrow dirt road. The road dipped low, crossed a rickety wooden bridge, curved to the left, and then made a sharp right. I found the break in wall of trees I knew to be the path to our property and stopped. “Yay! I did it!” I’d come to our property alone and after dark. Thank you, Lord. I put the car in reverse and yet kept my foot on the brake. Why did I hesitate?

Have you ever just had a conversation with yourself? You hear yourself telling you something you know you would never say. I mean who tells themselves “Stay” in this situation? Not me! Was I crazy? I didn’t want to stay. I’d accomplished what I set out to do and wanted to get back to lights and people.

Then I heard a soft voice say, Turn off the key?

What? “Oh God,” I prayed. What if it won’t start?

I’m here.

With faith, hope, and trust, I followed what had to be God’s instructions. I know I would have never thought to do this on my own. Putting the car in Park, I reluctantly turned off engine. Quiet, with only night sounds of frogs and crickets. I stared out the windshield and realized the headlights would run down battery. I had to turn them off. Adrenaline pumping and my breath shallow and panting, I turned off the lights. My eyes soon adjusted, and I realized the night wasn’t as dark as I thought. Still, I was ready to start the engine and leave.

But that gentle voice said, “Get out of car.” By now I knew for sure it was God, yet I argued with Him.

“Really, God. There could be real dangers. Like snakes.” And I’d heard black bears and panthers had been sighted in our area.

I’m here.

I know. I took a deep breath and looked around for signs of danger. None I could see. I opened the car door and scanned the ground and the woods across the ditch. Again nothing.  I stepped out and stood in the gap between the car and the open door.

Shut the door.

I groaned and slowly pushed the door closed, keeping my hand on the handle. I swallowed hard and kept vigilance around me with my back to the car and my hand gripping the handle. I stood there for what felt like eternity. Soon, my breathing returned to normal. I was okay.

Walk around the Car.

Are you kidding me? But I didn’t argue, just gave another groan.

I’m here, He reassured me again.

Reluctantly, I let go of the handle and walked around the car. No, I ran around the car and then grabbed the door handle again, and almost jumped back into car. Instead, I paused and asked, “Is it okay now?”

Yes.

I opened the car door and got in, snapped the door locks and slammed the key into the ignition. But once again, I hesitated. I waited for more direction. None came. I listened to the hum of silence. I looked up at the stars, and in the beauty of the night, a peaceful relief washed over me. A weight lifted. I sat there in the car no longer in a hurry. I truly thanked God for helping me face my fears and I’ve never been afraid since. Well, that’s not true. I’ve been afraid, but not overcome with fear again. Today, when I hear Francesca Battistelli’s, The Breakup Song, the lines Fear, you don’t own me and Fear, you will never be welcome here, I want to shout!

I didn’t want to face fear, but realized Fear is the opposite of Faith. Had I not faced my fear that night, I would have been unable to go through the many fearful trials that came to me years later.

Are you fearful? Don’t let fear overwhelm you. Face it head-on. Fear is only a thing in your mind. Do you have a story to share? Have you overcome a fear in your life?

Remember, wherever you are, you are at the right place when you come to my website and read my blog. Come on back and share a slice of life with me.

The post FEAR, YOU DON’T OWN ME appeared first on Shelia Shook.

Have you ever experienced a miracle? Would you believe it if you did? Do you even believe in miracles? Maybe you call it a coincidence, but we all have miracles in our lives. It’s just a matter of recognizing them. I believe miracles are God’s way of showing us He cares, and that He’s watching over us. If you will notice, miracles require us to need something. We are struggling with some aspect of our lives. We are either praying for ourselves or someone else to recover, overcome, or succeed in some endeavor. Don’t get me wrong, I know there are times I need a miracle and I don’t get one. God doesn’t always reveal to us why.

Miracles don’t happen when everything is going smooth. I realized this while listening to a podcast this week by April Perry (LearnDoBecome.com) She shared a story from the Old Testament of a widow who during a drought had gotten down to her last meal. The Prophet Elijah came to her hungry and thirsty. He requested water and bread. The widow gave him a cup of water, but had to admit she only had enough flour and oil to make bread for her and her son’s last meal. Then they would wait to die—starve.

Elijah told her not to be afraid. He told her to first make a small loaf of bread for him, and then make something for herself and her son. Then he added: “For this is what the Lord God of Israel says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land.’”

I don’t know about you, but that sounds like an extremely bold request from Elijah. That widow had to trust him to speak the truth of God, and then have faith God would provide for her and her son.  The widow must have had a heart for God and discerned this was a possible miracle for, unselfishly, she baked a bread cake for Elijah first. She then went back into the kitchen, and to her surprise was able to make another loaf for her son and herself. She continued to have enough oil and flour to support them until the Lord sent rain. Just as Elijah said, it did not run out. (I Kings 17:10-16)

It was a depressing time in my life. I had been laid off work and we only had one income. Living from payday to payday, again. This wasn’t my first rodeo. Do you know what I mean? We had encountered several financial setbacks, and my pantry and fridge were bare again. I felt like that widow. But I had been here before, and knew God would provide.

Like the time we lived in Galveston and a bunch of teenagers stayed the week on our living room floor. We had been fishing and crabbing to put meat on the table, and not always with much luck. One morning, I tiptoed through the bodies, pillows, and blankets strewn on the living room floor to get to the kitchen where I found a sink full of crabs and fish iced down. Those kids had been fishing all night. We made enough gumbo and fried fish to last until payday. What a miracle that was.

Another time, when my kids were little and we were down to a can of creamed style corn, flour, peanut butter and syrup, I made what we called Indian bread. Mixing it all together and frying it into pan cakes, then smearing them with peanut butter and syrup. We’d had it before multiple times, but then it was a treat. This time, it was all we had left as we struggled to wait until payday again. This was on a Sunday after church, and my brother-in-law came to visit for the afternoon. He had a cup of coffee and left. He came back later with bags of groceries including formula for the baby. I believe God sent him to us that day.

But this day I had felt beat down. More so than the times before. I knew like the widow that we would be ok, but I mean at my age, why were we fighting this battle again? My hope and frustrations overwhelmed me. Needing a refreshing word, I went to a women’s Bible study. After the study, the women planned a meal for a family in need, and too proud to admit I was also in need, I agreed to bring potato salad. It was the one thing I knew I had the ingredients for without having to go to the store.

When I got home, I gathered eggs from the hen house and set them and some potatoes to boil. I made a double portion as well as a pot of pinto beans and cornbread for my family’s dinner. I pulled and washed green onions from our garden, and once the potatoes and eggs were cooled and peeled, I set out the condiments. When I reached for the large jar of pickles in the back of the refrigerator, I realized it only had juice. I stirred, and looked, and stirred again. No pickles.

I sank to the floor in front of the refrigerator with that jar in my arms, and cried. It wasn’t really the pickles or even my pride of not being able to make the potato salad. It was like the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I just couldn’t bear anymore. The burden of life seemed so heavy. After a good cleansing cry, I prayed and as usual, found God’s peace. I sniffed and stood, set the jar of juice on the counter and revised my plan. The green onion would give the potato salad color and the pickle juice would provide the needed bit of flavor.

I chopped the eggs, onions and potatoes, added mayonnaise and mustard, and with another sniff and a sigh, I dipped a tablespoon into the pickle juice. The spoon met with something solid. I looked inside the wide mouth jar and didn’t see anything but cloudy juice. Slanting the gallon jar, I leaned over to see what I was hitting, and was shocked to see a pickle floating around on the bottom.

What? I knew I had looked good the first time and there were no pickles. I was sure. Wasn’t I? Yes, I was sure. Very sure. God produced that pickle from my tears and prayers, and no one can tell me any different. I didn’t really need it for the potato salad. My plan would have worked well enough, but I needed that pickle to remind me God cares. He’s always watching out. Even for the smallest things.

Do you have miracles in your life you are chalking up to coincidences? Take another look. You may be overlooking a miracle. When times are tough, Miracles happen. Next time your life seems too heavy to bear, have a good cry and look for the miracle. Expect it. It may be small,  seeming coincidental, but God wants to show you He loves you. He’s there watching out for you.

Remember, wherever you are in life, you are at the right place when you visit my website and read my blog. Come on back and share a slice of life with me.

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