Carmen and I at the work site
I gave my testimony last night. It wasn't just to my neighbor, my hairdresser, my Sunday school class or an interested seeker; it was before my church family. Each year during Lent, our Thursday night services are devoted to hearing the conversion stories of lay people. Each of 6 people is given a night to speak to tell the story of how he or she came to know the love of Jesus. This year, the committee who decides these things asked me to be one of the speakers. My original date to speak was March 18, but due to the cold feet of the senior pastor's wife, my date was switched to last night. It didn't leave me much time, having just 4 days to prepare. However, the story is familiar to me so there really wasn't much preparation other than producing a good outline and getting some slides and photos together so
Deke could produce a
powerpoint for me.
All that is kind of superfluous to the real meat of what I want to say. This morning I am feeling an overwhelming thankfulness to the Lord for what He has done in my life. When I was recounting the events that led me to accept Him and the incredible journey He has led me through since then, I am feeling like my heart might just burst wide open with love and gratitude.
The title of the testimony was, "Blind-But Now I See." Among many stories, I told the tale of my first encounter with God. I was on a short term mission trip to
Puerto Rico (18 yrs old-senior in HS) with Dad and a group from the Lebanon District UM churches. I was walking by myself at dusk from our cabins on a path to the ocean when I lost one of my contact lenses. We're not talking the soft permeable things of today; these were actual prices of glass stuck in the eye! Frantically searching the sand for the lens, I finally gave up hope and went to ask Dad to bring a flashlight to help me search. Stupidly, I didn't mark the spot. Our interpreter, Carmen, grabbed my hands and said something like, "That's no big deal to God. Let's pray that He will help you find it." Weird. I didn't know a thing about praying and felt very awkward, but she prayed and that was that. Dad and I searched to no avail. What am I going to do now? Two thousand miles from home and no way to replace the lens. Blind. That night I awakened to listen to a terrible tropical storm. Lightning and thunder crashed overhead and the wind was horrific. Great, I thought. If there was ever a chance of finding that lens, all hope is gone now.
The next morning just after daylight, I walked down the path giving the search one last hurrah, when I was stopped cold by a squiggle line that ran right across the path. It looked something like a cartoon snake trail. It was totally out of place because the path had been scoured clean by the storm. I got down on all fours and followed the line to the right- no lens. I followed the line to the left- there at the exact end of the line in the sand was my lens! I screamed and yelled and woke everybody in the camp. Carmen wasn't surprised in the least. I was overwhelmed. After my initial excitement had worn down, I walked back down the path to the spot and fell on my knees thanking God for this miracle. Incredibly, it would be 5 years before I came to know this One who drew the line in the sand.
When I think back on all the ways he drew me to Him, I am so grateful that He kept at it. He truly is the "hound of heaven." I was blind all right; but my blindness had more to do with the things of the Spirit than the physical blindness of my eye. Five years later, Jesus would open my eyes totally and I would "see" Him in all His glory.
