Posts Tagged ‘Florida’

Before I say too much on the subject of prayer, let me state that I don’t feel that I am anyone special and I have no special powers. Jesus said that some people have much more to be forgiven than others, and I consider myself to be one of that kind. I have always felt a bit like Mary Magdalene must have felt in the presence of Christ.

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In spite of my failures God has been kind to me, and I love a song that people used to sing at the church I attended for many years. The words to that song are:

It is no secret what God can do.
What He’s done for others, He’ll do for you.
With arms wide open, He’ll welcome you.
It is no secret what God can do.

So what has He done for me and my friends when we have prayed? I will recount a few instances where prayer changed the whole landscape of a serious problem.

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I once worked with a lady at a school for the deaf and blind, and her name was Roberta. She came to work one day very distraught, and I asked her what was the matter. She said that her daughter-in-law Cynthia had just left her son and had taken their child with her. Roberta said that cruel heartless words had been spoken to her son by Cynthia before she left. Her son was grieving and any mother can relate to that helpless feeling when her children are in pain and she can’t do anything to help.

So Roberta asked me to pray for her son and Cynthia. I suggested that we pray together and separately about the matter, because Christ said that if two people who believe agree upon something, there is great power in that prayer. I recommended that we meditate upon the verse in Ezekiel in which God promises to take out a heart made of stone and replace it with a heart made of flesh. We agreed to pray that Cynthia’s stony heart would be softened towards her husband and that she would come home. We wrote two copies of that scripture on slips of paper to take home and promised to pray earnestly about the matter. I reminded Roberta that God doesn’t always act quickly upon our requests, but that it is an exercise of our faith when we have to wait.

Then two or three days later, I drove up to the school just as Roberta was parking in the lot. As I turned my car off, I looked up and saw her running towards me. Her face was glowing with excitement, and I knew this was going to be amazing. I opened the door and stepped out and she said, “Olive, you will never believe what has happened!” She told me that she had been praying with many tears before God, and that Cynthia had called her son that morning, weeping and begging his forgiveness and said she wanted to come home. We were so happy and our faith was increased because of what occurred- in only a few days the whole situation was turned around!

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Another time, I was having severe financial problems and I am the kind that hates to pray about money. It really bothers me because so many people pray for things they don’t really need. But I was really in trouble. So while I was in church for a Wednesday night prayer meeting, I decided to pray silently for God’s help. I have learned to wait for the Spirit to begin to move in the congregation before offering up my prayers. The House of God is a very powerful place during these times. It was a little after 8 o’clock in the evening in Florida when I began praying and I said, “Lord, I never come to you about money as you know, but we are really in a mess and we need your help so that we can meet our needs. If it is your will, please help us in your own way.” After prayer meeting had ended, I returned home and called the bank because I was afraid of getting an overdraft. But I noticed that my account had increased by several hundred dollars since earlier that day! I was very confused so I called the twenty-four-hour customer service line to find out what had happened. As it turned out, someone in Oregon who had owed me money for quite some time had made a deposit right after they got off work at 5 o’clock that evening. It dawned on me that there was a three-hour time difference between Florida and Oregon, and that just as I had started praying on the east coast, money was being deposited on the west coast! I would never make something like this up to impress people. This really happened!

Okay, here is one more incident: about three months ago, I had a mammogram. Normally if you don’t hear anything about it within two or three days, you know that everything is okay. So I thought I was cleared. I had planned a trip out of state about two weeks later. But two weeks later on a Friday afternoon, I received a very disturbing call about my results. A woman on the phone said the radiologist had spotted something and wanted more tests as soon as possible. I was shocked that it had taken so long for them to contact me. I asked if I could come in that day and they said it was too late and the doctor was gone for the weekend. I am a terrible worrier and I knew I had to go the whole weekend without knowing what was happening, and my imagination always runs wild in situations like this. Also, I was supposed to leave early Monday morning on my trip. So I decided I would leave later on Monday than planned. I called every praying person that I knew and requested their prayers. I asked them to pray that nothing serious was happening and that I would be able to go on my planned journey after my appointment.

My loved ones and I were sweating all weekend over this, and I was talking to people about what to do if something happened to me. Well, Monday morning came and I was a nervous wreck. I went in to the breast center and put on the little white waffle knit robe and waited, and the technician called me in. Usually I can remember faces, but I couldn’t see her through the fog of uncertainty that day. She took a series of pictures and sent me back to the waiting room. A wonderful sweet lady was waiting there too and I felt an immediate connection with her and we talked as if we had been close friends for years. It was so surreal in that room. Then the technician called me a second time and I broke into another sweat as she took more pictures. She sent me back to wait and the sweet lady was gone. A few minutes later the technician walked in and said, “The radiologist wanted me to check you thoroughly a second time because what he saw in the previous series two weeks ago seems to have vanished completely. There is nothing there now.” I don’t have to tell you how I felt or how my loved ones reacted. I even thought that God had placed that angel in the waiting room. All of the people who prayed for me were rejoicing because it increased their faith and I felt honored to be part of that.

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I could tell you other stories and I will write them in the future, but the point is that God is really listening to all of us at the same time- and He doesn’t even get confused. He is truly amazing, and I am so glad to be His child by faith.

Shalom,

Olive Twist

~♥~

 

 

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I’m in Tennessee now and it’s stinkbug season…I used to think I could be a naturalist, but one problem always prevented me: INSECTS.

I wrote an essay about this problem during graduate school.  We were discussing nature writing, and I decided I would try my hand at it.  My mentor loved this piece entitled “Insect Armageddon.”   I hope you enjoy.

Peace,  Olive Twist!!

~♥~

C.S. Lewis, the Christian apologist, believed that animals go to Heaven when they die, because Isaiah the prophet speaks of the Holy Mountain being inhabited by more animals than humans.  Someone once asked Lewis, “If animals go to Heaven, what will become of the mosquitoes?”  Lewis replied that “A heaven for mosquitoes could be combined with a hell for man.”

I can attest to the fact that such a place already exists, where men are tormented for their sins and insects have dominion: the state of Florida.  Many northerners have discovered this punishment at the time of their retirement, having thought they were moving south to tropical paradise and Jimmy Buffet songs.

I will not even embark upon issues such as the relentless heat and no seasons, the hurricanes and power outages that follow every storm, the wharf rats, the stinging jellyfish, the rabid raccoons, or the water moccasins that lurk in lakes, awaiting some brazen tourist who might decide to skinny-dip.  I will tell only of that which I despise the most: the bugs. I have always despised bugs and regard them with a mixture of contempt and dread.  Every autumn, I begin to pray for a winter harsh enough to send them all into early graves.

One summer my sons and I moved to Oregon, because most of our relatives live on the west coast and the weather is milder.  After about two months there, I asked my young sons what they missed the most about Florida.  My six-year-old quickly replied, “I miss the giant rhinoceros beetles that crawl around the parking lots, and those big locusts that are green and yellow and orange with zebra stripes on them.”  His big blue eyes were glowing with purity.

“You miss those?” I asked, trying not to look disgusted. “Not me.”  I mumbled a prayer that we would never go back, but we unfortunately did.

As we drove back into Florida, I opened the car window and could hear the cicadas chirping loudly in the trees.  They’ve been waiting for me, I thought with horror.  They are like giant flies that are naturally attracted to long hair, and nothing is worse than trying to shake one out while it rattles like madness in your ear, and you shriek and do a nerve dance until it falls out.

But the great demon of the south is the roach.  Some of them fly, such as the giant palmetto bug.  Once I lived in an old two-story house with a group of friends, and a man was cooking spaghetti and garlic bread in the kitchen. He had a neat stack of bread on a corner of the table and we noticed a huge roach on the ceiling several feet away.  Its antennae were shaking excitably, and it suddenly did a sky dive with no parachute and landed perfectly on top of that tall bread castle, where it seemed to be quite content with its plunder.  I did not eat that night.

Most roaches crawl with wriggling hungry antennae in garbage cans, on kitchen counters, and through windowsills and crevices.  In the middle of the night, when you go to the kitchen for a cookie and milk and you turn on the light, they flee like desperate soldiers behind the fortress of the stove.  When you open a cupboard in the daytime, one might rustle behind the sugar bag, or you might spy their eggs like tiny white bullets in the corner.

Once I was lying in my bed, and I heard a sound as soft as silk slippers on the venetian blinds over my head.  I leapt from my bed and cut on the light, and was amazed that I had even been able to hear it.  The roach, I mean.  My ears are ultra-sensitive to insects, especially roaches.  I wake up everyone in the house for such occasions, and won’t let anyone rest until the skirmish is finished and the culprit has met his demise.

The pest control man can’t stand me. I laugh with victorious delight whenever his Ghostbuster truck pulls into the driveway with its giant canisters of poison and ammunition. I call him any time I see one bug, and I make him spray the whole house again, since it is included in my service agreement.  Though most people have switched to annual pest service, I expect my house to be sprayed once per month inside and out.  I let him know when I think it’s time for more bait behind the kitchen drawers and under the sinks.  I know he gets sick of dealing with me.

I can’t leave out the termites and giant ants. I called the termite man to come and tell me about a tree that looked like it was dissolving to sawdust all by itself.  He looked at it and said, “I can’t do anything about that tree, because it is within three feet of your house, and we don’t do indoor service for you.”  So I called the pest control man, and he says, “I can’t touch that tree because it’s not part of the house.  So the bugs have all figured out where the no-kill zone is, and they continue to prosper there and raise their families. I once thought it would be funny to put up a “roach crossing” sign in front of our house.

Should I embark upon the subject of mosquitoes carrying diseases like malaria, yellow fever, encephalitis?  Or have you ever awakened to find a tick burrowing in your flesh?  How about those wasps with great stingers and long legs that hover around the eaves looking for a victim?

Once I had a crazy dream that I was looking with curious disdain at a display of insects in some laboratory.  As I analyzed one big furry bug with wings pinned to a board resembling an insect Hellraiser, the bug suddenly squirmed and opened its eyes and started talking.  I jumped back in horror, as it told me about the injustice and misfortune of its life and how it ended up being nailed by some entomologist. It was like a horror movie scene and I woke up sweating and feverish.  I wondered if I was like Hannibal Lechter to the bug world.

As I sat shaking on the edge of my bed, I thought:  Perhaps I have misjudged these little creatures.  Perhaps they are only innocent civilians. Perhaps they are really cute and cuddly if you get to know them.

One tiny baby roach wriggled on my dresser.  I grabbed my hairbrush and smacked it into eternal bliss.  No, even my Quaker beliefs must be suspended for this war, this enmity.  I cannot love these hellions in paradise.

(See Isaiah Chapter 11 and The Problem of Pain, chapter 9)


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