I have an “answered prayer” story to share with you. It’s very much a story that could have – and almost did – turn out very sad, but instead ended very happily, and I believe the Lord orchestrated this into my life to teach me many things, one of which was the importance of persistent prayer. I suppose I’m sharing it to reinforce the concept that nothing is too big or small to pray about, and to keep praying about. God is a generous Father who loves to give good gifts to His children. He cares about all aspects of your life - your feelings, your hopes, your dreams. He created you, after all. It’s the story of how my husband and I came to be engaged.

Matt and I had been very good friends throughout my college years. We endured endless questions from others who wanted some definition of our relationship, and we maintained the line that we were indeed just friends. That was the truth – the sad, sad truth, in my opinion. Matt insisted he thought I was a wonderful person in many ways, but that he simply didn’t have romantic interest in me. And that was the truth, too. He’ll tell you to this day. So, what could I do but pray? It’s not that he didn’t notice me, it’s not that he didn’t like me, it’s not that he just needed to spend more time with me so I could woo him with my feminine charm. No, it was a heart issue, and there’s only one Person in charge of heart issues, so I went to Him regularly to plead that He would change Matt’s heart on the matter.

After 3 ½ years of close friendship, I began to sense that the relationship was going nowhere and since I’d graduated from college 9 months hence, I realized – very much through the prompting of the Holy Spirit – that I needed to get on with my life by breaking off my friendship with Matt, which I did. It was immensely painful, but through it all I felt joy and peace because I had a very strong sense of assurance that I’d been obedient to what the Lord was calling me to do in that situation. Believe me, the easier thing would have been to stay “just friends” forever – at least then I would have had something, right?

As I’ve mentioned, throughout the 3 ½ years before this quasi-breakup I prayed regularly for God to change Matt’s heart. The Lord brought me to a place of realization that even if He didn’t change Matt’s heart, it was going to be okay, and after I surrendered to this, he went ahead and did it anyway. The coolest part of the story – to me, at least – is that Matt had been praying the same thing all along – that God would change his heart - using this same language, and you have to understand that Matt and I don’t normally speak like this. We usually think in terms of our minds and thoughts, and not so much our hearts and feelings, so the fact that not only were we praying the same thing without knowing it, we were using the same rarely-used terminology.

So, there you go. God answered my prayer, finally. Most of our friends had given up after almost 4 years but the Lord knew what He was doing. Would He have brought me and Matt together had I not prayed? I guess there’s no way to know. I do know that through prayer, God involves us in His doings, and that’s no small thing. This story of answered prayer in my life is one that I look to time and again to remind me of the importance and privilege of prayer. I have a tangible reminder of it everyday – my sweet husband.

Have you been watching Christmas movies this season? I haven’t. It’s only because I have the attention span of a 2 year old when it comes to movies. This is especially sad for my husband, who likes movies. He says I used to like movies before we got married. I think the reason I “liked” movies before we got married was because seeing a movie together meant being together, but now we’re together frequently, so I don’t need the pretense of going to see a movie, you know what I mean?

But I digress. I recently saw some of A Charlie Brown Christmas (yes, I realize the whole thing is only 30 minutes, but I couldn’t stare at the TV for even that long!), and I liked what I saw. I like that at the end (so I’m told, because I didn’t get that far) the real reason for Christmas comes out when Linus recites to the depressed Charlie Brown the nativity story from Luke 2. I’m impressed that they didn’t say the real meaning of Christmas is “family” or some other mumbo jumbo.

The latest version of Miracle on 34th Street came out my freshman year of high school. After seeing it, my best friend and I were so inspired that we decided to wear either red or green to school everyday until Christmas. I’m sure she succeeded, because her wardrobe was much bigger than mine. I think I managed by wearing various Christmas earrings.

I do enjoy A Christmas Story. I’ve never seen It’s A Wonderful Life.

Last year, Matt and I saw The Nativity Story in the theater, and were really impressed. It’s consistent with the Scriptures and really brings the story - these events that actually happened a long time ago in a different place - to life. Sometimes it’s hard for me to picture what Mary and Joseph were like, and that they were human, with feelings and hopes familiar to us. I found that The Nativity Story greatly increased my faith, and I decided we should make it a tradition to watch it each Advent season. As our kids get old enough to sit for a movie, we plan to have them join us. Hmm, but if my movie ADD is genetic, that may never happen. Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.

My one issue with this movie is that the angel Gabriel looks like Cat Stevens, so says my husband. I didn’t know who Cat Stevens was, so I guess it wasn’t my issue. Still, you’ve been warned.

What are some of your favorite Christmas movies, and why?

My husband Matt and I have been involved with Manna (UPC’s ministry to the poor and homeless) for 8 and 5 years, respectively. Working with this particular subset of homeless folks (those we consider “career” homeless because they have been homeless for many years, are usually addicted to drugs and/or alcohol, and have little to no desire to change their situation) is a very hard and slow-going ministry. It often seems like 1 step forward, 1 mile back. In these many years, we’ve only seen a handful of people get out of the woods, get sober, or truly receive Jesus as their Lord. Matt says that service to others, besides being required by compassion and the Law, is given to teach us indirectly the things of God, and I’ve found that to be true. I find that while I’m frustrated with the homeless sometimes, I am actually like them in many ways. Though I couldn’t think of a specific example to show this, Matt can think of many. What follows is his account, the lesson of which loudly resonates with me.

My errand that Sunday morning was to pick up a certain fellow who had requested a ride to church, but when I arrived at the appointed place and time, he was nowhere to be found. Two other homeless men whom I knew were sitting nearby, and I consulted them on the possible whereabouts of the missing would-be church-goer. Seeing that I had failed to find the one I sought, the bolder of the two asked me if I could get him some food. I agreed, and he climbed into my car.

(Background: Some weeks ago, this hungry friend had been in jail for some trifle, and when released, he came hygienic, clean-shaven, and in new clothes to our breakfast in the park on Saturday morning. He was excited to be free, and he seemed determined to change his life and to get off the street. He needed some help to contact his mother, and I agreed to take him to make the long-distance call. Just twenty minutes later, however, he had changed his mind. He’d call her next Saturday, he said, and he’d stay in a camp with some of his friends for the next few days. I urged him to continue with his previous plan, knowing that temptation would strangle his desires for change, but he had already given up. He thanked me and went to the woods. I was disappointed that I couldn’t help him more.)

En route to an establishment where he might breakfast that Sunday morning, I asked if he would like to go to church afterward, and he gladly consented. He and I talked of his spiritual state, and he confessed his neglect of spiritual things and again of his desire to change. We went to the drive-thru and ordered his meal, and as I paid at the first window, he expressed his second thoughts about going to church. He was not dressed for it, he said, but I successfully countered his argument by saying God didn’t care what he wore. As we pulled to the second window where the food was delivered, he complained of a sudden queasiness, and said he didn’t think he could make it through church. He received the food and said he’d better just get out right there. The walk back to his camp and the fresh air would do him well, he thought. He thanked me for the food and exited the car with haste.

I was aggravated to say the least. I wouldn’t have minded so much if he had said he only wanted food and not to go to church, but it appeared to me that he had used religious pretenses to get what he desired and then backed away from his commitments. He had previously asked for my help but then refused it because he was trapped by his lusts, and now he had attempted to deceive and use me in order to get what he wanted. He was weak. He was lazy. He was steeped in sin. And I despised him for his frailty.

Then, as Asaph in Psalm 73, I entered the house of God and saw the arrogance of my heart. I perceived an embarrassing similarity between these circumstances and my own walk with God, in which I am the filthy indigent ensnared in my own iniquity and God is constantly offering to free me. My aid had been spurned twice by this man, but how innumerable were the times and in what myriad ways had I attempted to use God to fill my own worldly desires? How much more was He justly offended than I could ever be? How much greater was the pain He felt at my attempted deception and my rejection of Him? But still, how much greater is His patience with my impious thoughts and behavior and how vast is the forgiveness He has made ready and how deep is the covenant love He has demonstrated by coming Himself for me - not despite my sin, but because of it. Indeed, in bringing about my redemption, He has shown what I ought to be, and He has undergone the most humbling experience of all.

My hubby and I just returned home from my sister’s wedding in Puerto Rico. It was great and I’ll blog about it on my own personal blog later today.

As we were walking to our gate I slipped on a wet patch and fell. One of the security guards saw me all sprawled out on the floor and called the EMT to make sure I was okay.

I was fine, just a little bump on the knew, little twist to the ankle, no big deal. But I’m glad I sat there and waited for them. On a bench nearby was a family with 3 little ones playing around. The husband looked desperate and his wife was laying on the bench. She wasn’t well and looked like she was about to pass out.

I talked to them and found out that they had been in the airport all day traveling standby for a flight to Antigua. The wife was weak, she had heart problems, they couldn’t go out of security and for some reason no one was willing to help her.

When the EMT arrived they looked at her first because she was having chest pains. Turns out she was exhausted and had low blood sugar. Then it was my turn.

I can’t believe that no one was willing to help her. I believe the husband when he told me. My little fall finally brought her, and the whole family, some help. They were taken away and finally some one paid attention to them.

I fell for a reason.

This is my Papa and he is a great father.

I have many good memories of him.

• he came to all my swim meets
• he tutored me in math (I hated math)
• after he accepted Christ, he read the Bible to us every night and then prayed with us before bedtime
• he listened to me when I needed some one to talk too
• he kept me safe
• he provided for my needs
• he drove us to school every morning for 2 years, even though it was far away and out of his way
• as my sister’s and I grew older and came home from shopping, he learned to be excited about our finds! (it eventually became a game that I may write about later)
• he watched our “fashion show” as we tried on our new clothes
• he taught me never to spend what I don’t have - still working on that one
• he taught and modeled to me to respect everyone, despite their rank or position in life

These are just a few of many great memories. I remember when I went to a new high school, didn’t know anyone and was having a hard time making friends. The best advice he’s given me that I still remember was this, “when you’re at school, smile and say ‘hi’ to everyone by their name.” I took that advice and made friends quickly after that.

The best thing I can say about Papa is that he is a prayer warrior and he loves the Lord. He’ll pray for anything and everything. When I need prayer I turn to him. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been asking him to pray for me. And he does, and it makes a difference.

I love my Papa and thank God he is my father.