The Prayer of Jabez
Each morning I'd tell the Lord I was available. I went to an address to sell cable. An older gentlemen answered the door. "This is an answer to a prayer." Mine too. I was so happy he could finally get what he wanted. We did our business and I left. Down the street I realized I had stopped at the right house number, but I was on the wrong street.
There were times I believed door-to-door work was just a cover. I went to a retired woman's home and noticed her front door hinge pins were coming out. I told her if she had a hammer, I'd fix it. She did. I did. We laughed.
At one door the woman answered almost in tears. I asked what was wrong. She said her husband had passed a couple of days ago. I put my arms around her and cried with her.
One woman had a plate of cheese on the coffee table. When she left to get her checkbook she said, "Now Mike, don't bother the cheese." I looked around for a child. Quick as a flash the cat grabbed the cheese and ran off. She said he had been a restaurant cat and would eat anything, but didn't particularly care for sauerkraut.
We made so many friends those six years, and fed so many hungry people. A Vietnam vet in Nashville befriended us where we parked our motorhome. We saw him again in January. He was ill and in short sleeves. Without a moment's hesitation, JB gave him his coat and some money.
Last Sunday Pastor Patrick read a list of terrible things that would happen around the world in the hour we were in church. He looked up and said, "What are we doing here? We should be out there working for the Lord." I could have jumped up and shouted. In a Southern church, I would have.
When we pay attention and listen, we can be of use expanding His territory anywhere.
copyrigh 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series