I got a text from a friend.  She said that she wanted to run away.  Immediately, I resonated with that simple sentence.  Yes, me too!  I want to run away.  Life doesn’t feel fun right now.  I see hurting people everywhere I go.  I am hurting, and I don’t want to hurt anymore.  But this is where I am, and I don’t think I can get out of it, unless God delivers me.  Lord have mercy!

A few weeks ago I went to sleep on Saturday night, and had a very scary dream.  We were all being loaded into trucks.  They were the tall trucks, like the Amazon trucks you likely see stopping at every other house.  I was on the truck and I looked at the woman across from me and asked,

“What about them?”

“Oh, they are being left in their homes to die.” the woman said.

“WHAT?!”  I exclaimed.  “You mean the government scared all of the old people with COVID, and now they are afraid to come out of their houses?  They are going to just leave them there to die? Who is going to preach the gospel to them?”

I woke up that Sunday morning, with the worst feeling of dread lodged deep in the pit of my stomach.  This is a season of grief, but I especially feel deep grief on Sundays.  There is so much fear mongering going on, churches have closed their doors, and a lot of people seem okay with this.  I am NOT okay with not gathering to worship, pray, and study God’s word.

On that particular Sunday I was headed over to my friend’s house.  She graciously said that I could have her compost from her back yard, when I had sheepishly offered to barter something, anything that she might like of mine so I could have her precious dirt.  You see, I don’t really go to the store these days.  I’ve chosen to grow a garden in my own back yard, and eat whatever God gives me. I can’t wear a mask at the store without experiencing PTSD.  There are other reasons why I struggle with masks but that’s a whole different story. I’m not sure when it will come out, but it will because God brings everything that is in darkness into the light.

So I found myself with my three youngest kids, at my friend’s house shoveling her compost into buckets.

Suddenly I heard an old man’s voice behind me.

“Can I have that dirt?” He gruffly said.

I whirled around to find a very tanned, white haired old man standing in the middle of my friend’s back yard.

“What did you say?” I asked him.

“Can I have that dirt? I want it!” he said, as he pointed to the compost pile with his cane.

“No, you can’t have the dirt. I’m taking it.” I told him.

“All of it?” He asked.

“Yes, all of it! I am taking it all.” I told him. I was wondering where the heck this guy had come from.

Then he said, “Well, if I can’t have the dirt, would you listen to me?”

“Okay,” I told him, “I will listen to you.”

This is what he told me:

My name is Steve. I’m from Bulgaria.  When I was between the ages of 10-15 yrs old, I was really hungry because I didn’t have much to eat.  Hitler came in and ruined everything.  I didn’t want to live in a communist country.  They took everything from us.  I had a kind neighbor who had compassion on me.  She said her husband’s brother would help me escape.  I escaped to Greece.  When I got to Greece they threw me in prison because they thought I was a spy.  I told them, “I am not a spy.”  But they didn’t believe me.  I was in prison for three months before they released me. Eventually, I made it to America.  God bless America!

I stood there with my mouth gapping open for a moment.  I brushed some of the dirt off my skirt and said, “Steve, do you know Jesus?”

“Not as well as you do!” He exclaimed.

So I asked him if he was willing to listen to my story for a few minutes.  Then I told him about how my mom had died when I was young.  I told him how my wealthy family put me, and my siblings into a children’s home.  I told him of the horrible choices I made as a young adult, and how Jesus rescued me.  As he listened to my story, his demeanor changed.  He confessed some things that were causing him heart ache, and I told him how Jesus has faithfully healed my broken-heart every time it’s been wounded, and that Jesus would do that for him too.

At that point he threw his hand up excitedly and said he had a 40 yr old bottle of wine for me that he bottled himself.  He turned around and started shuffling across the yard.  He looked back over his shoulder and said, “My knees are bad, so it will take me a few minutes.”  Then he used his cane to point to where his driveway met my friend’s fence and told me to stand over there and wait for him.

While he was inside I felt God prompt me to give him my caring cross that I had in my pocket.  It’s a small wooden cross  that my daughter gave me.  It’s carved out of olive wood from Jerusalem, and I confess that because it is so special to me, I did not want to give it to him.

I have carried a cross in my pocket ever since I bought one for Grandma Maria when she was dying.  She championed that cross.  She modeled how to hold it just the right way.  Grandma said it like it was, and she looked me right in the eye and said, “I love this cross. It reminds me that I’m not alone.” I barely breathed out the words, “I need that.  I need to know that I’m not alone.”

So I stood there waiting for Steve to return. As I looked around, I saw that he was an avid gardener, growing much of his own food.  I understood why he wanted the compost. About ten minutes later he poked out of his house and held up his prized wine. He told me that I would never find such wonderful 40 year old bottle of wine anywhere else.

I had just asked God for a bottle of wine earlier that morning.  I’ve been taking communion everyday, and even though it’s just a sip, I was almost out of wine.   Little did I know that my wine was in Steve’s basement.

I gave him my caring cross, and did my best to tell him the gospel.   He was quick to tell me that he is very religious.   I believed him, and I was glad he brought that up.  Knowing Jesus isn’t so much about following rules, but more about having a very special relationship.  I asked him if I could pray for him.  He said I could, and so we prayed. He teared up, and quickly turned to my kids with three cans of coke.

It was a precious moment in time, and better than any church service I have ever attended.  Not because of anything I did, but because God stepped in and did his thing.

I have spent years trying my best to love people, pray for people, and quite frankly, running from God’s call on my life. I can’t do it anymore.  I don’t want to be like Jonah.  He didn’t want to do what the Lord wanted him to do.  God wanted to have mercy on Nineveh and he wanted Jonah to tell them.  But instead Jonah got on a boat and sailed the other way.  That’s kinda what happened to me, and it hasn’t been happy sailing.

As I sit here on the fourth of July and I think of freedom, my thoughts keep returning to the fact that freedom isn’t free. People fought for the freedom of this country. They were willing to put all  they had on the line so that we could be free. My son is in the Navy, and I will never again take for granted the men and the women who serve us everyday for our freedom.

With everything that is going on in this world, I’m afraid for the body of Christ and how we are responding to the current crises. It was for freedom that Christ set us free. I’m concerned about believers who have turned away from God to follow after their own desires. Out of the whirlwind questions are starting to rise.

Is it a wise choice to murder our children through abortion? Do you know why God originally set the rainbow in the sky? Have you seen churches flying rainbow flags?  When God created man and woman, did he then say they could choose to be a different sex? These things are not the way, the truth, and the life. How did we get so far off track?

When Jonah went to Nineveh to tell them about their evil ways, they actually repented. But if you read the book of Nahum you will discover that years later Nineveh turned back to their evil ways and God destroyed Nineveh.

The Lord is a God of justice and mercy, and he doesn’t leave sin unchecked. You can’t get away with sin forever.

Nahum was a minor prophet and his name actually means comfort.  I don’t know about you, but I need some comfort. I’m with God in that I want mercy. God first offers mercy for everyone, and for those who refuse correction he swiftly cuts down.  We have to give an account for our lives.

 I am in love with verse Nahum 1:2. “The Lord is a jealous and avenging God; the Lord takes vengeance and is filled with wrath. The Lord takes vengeance on his foes and vents his wrath against his enemies.”

Vengance belongs to God. May the Lord have mercy on us all.

I highly recommend the book “WHEN A NATION FORGETS GOD: 7 LESSONS WE MUST LEARN FROM NAZI GERMANY,”by, Erwin Lutzer.

We are free people.  We are free to choose how we want to live, but we are not free from the consequences of those choices.  

This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life, and he will give you many years in the land he swore to give to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Deuteronomy 30:19-20