Chapter 3

I believe I was called to suffer because I was called to faith. Saint Paul seemed to appreciate the constant thorn in his own side when he proclaimed: “Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope[1].” Romans 5:3-4.

Yep— for stubborn children like me, without pain our faith doesn’t grow. When I’m in full-on meltdown mode, I half-jokingly say, “Pain is just weakness leaving the body.” Mostly to keep from ugly crying… but hey, it works. 

Overcoming challenges to develop our hope and our faith is a crucial part of our walk with God. 

I’m reminded of an experiment conducted on rats by Dr. Richter of Harvard. Dr. Richter placed rats in a vessel of water to test how long they could tread. The rats would give up treading water after about 15 minutes and sink. Right before they sank, the researchers would take them out and let them rest for a few minutes before putting them back into the water. During this second round, the rats would not give up treading water for about 60 hours! 

What was the difference? HOPE. Likewise, if you have suffered, and God relieved your burdens, even momentarily, that hope shall keep you going for the rest of your life. That is the hope that Jesus brings. 

“And we know that to them who love God 

all things work together for good, 

even to them who are called according to His purpose.”

Romans 8:28

Sometimes God allows a shake-up to wake us. Other times? That unexpected and sharp left detour is His protection. Either way, He’s got a plan, as Romans 8:28 explains. Have you heard the Chinese parable about the old man, his horse, and his son? 

An old man’s horse ran away into enemy land. 

Everyone said, “What bad luck.” He simply replied, “Maybe.” 

Months later, the horse returned—leading a group of strong, wild horses. 

“What good luck!” they said. He answered, “Maybe.” 

His son began riding daily, but one day fell and broke his leg. 

Again: “What bad luck.” And again, “Maybe.” 

A year later, war broke out. All able-bodied men were drafted. 

Most never returned. But the old man’s son, with his broken leg, stayed home. 

His son’s life was spared. 

Even the ancient Chinese knew that God’s ways are better than our ways. God’s plans are always better than our plans.

Son1 spent Thanksgiving 2019 with their dad. Son2 was with me. I tried to insert some fun (and, hopefully, respect) with a trip to NYC during Thanksgiving break. I justified this because Thanksgiving would have been sad without a home to cook the turkey. The trip was difficult. I was so sick yet pretending not to be. It was wonderful to see my extended family in Connecticut, but I was not well on every level a human can be ‘not well.’ And when one is not well, one doesn’t usually get warm fuzzies from others. In fact, it is human nature to judge harshly and cruelly those who are not well. That was me: judged. 

On the way back from NYC, Friend1 scooped Son2 and me up at SFO. We waited at the curb.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

I figured someone was lost and needed directions around the Bay Area, so I spun around like I worked at a welcome desk and chirped, “How can I help you?”

“Are you a Christian[2]?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” I said, not quite sure where this was headed.

Then boom—out came the prophecy. She had a Word. Capital W. From God[3]. For me!

As I stood there at the SFO Arrival curb on a cold Autumn night in 2019, this lady talked about shimmery silver-y sparkles, which The Holy Spirit was showing her was all around me (which, honestly, sounded fabulous). Then she kept repeating the same thing: that I bring people joy without even trying. “You don’t need to try to bring joy—you just do.” 

Then she looked me dead in the eye. I panicked. My heart skipped a beat. As she prophesied over me, I braced for divine judgment on my cheeky and frequently off-color Facebook posts. Nana Mary often said, “That post might give people the wrong idea about a good Christian lady.” But those memes were hilarious—true belly laughs when it hurt to laugh that hard but were oh so cathartic. I figured I couldn’t be the only one who needed a really good laugh just a few months before the pandemic. But, to my surprise, God didn’t mention the “inappropriateness” of my humor[4]. He focused solely on the joy I brought His children. 

She continued, “God sees everything you’ve lost. And He says you will receive redemption.”

I blinked. I crinkled my brow. “Redemption?” I tilted my head like a confused puppy. “Wait—I am redeemed. Jesus handled that on the tree, right?”

She smiled. “Yes, that’s one kind of redemption. But there’s another kind of redemption—when God gives back what’s been stolen or lost.”

“Ohhh.”

She kept going: “Say you lost your car. You’re not getting that car back—you’re getting a brand new, best-on-the-planet car. A vision-board car. Everything will be shiny and new. No hand-me-downs.[5]

I asked if this was like Job-level redemption— where he lost it all and eventually got back more. 

“Yes! Like Job.” she beamed. “But I think Job got double for his trouble.” We chuckled.

I told her I was reading Job, and also vowed to never curse God. And I smiled while saying I was asking God for seven-fold. I told her that through all my losses, I knew I was being refined. 

I looked at her expecting her to say more, but she didn’t. I told her that her boldness to walk up to a perfect stranger, not even knowing if I was a believer, was awe-inspiring. I was so glad she did. I gave her my number just as she hopped into a waiting car like some kind of prophetic drive-by angel.

“Wait!” I shouted as Friend1 pulled up to the curb. I ran over to the young lady to tell her: “I have a dog named Tinkerbell! I always say we’re out there spreading Pixie Dust wherever we go—is that the shimmery silver sparkles that you’re seeing?”

Her eyes lit up. “YES! That’s exactly what I see!”

On the way back to Friend1's home, I was grinning so big that my cheeks hurt. I thought I was about finished with my brutal walk through the fire and the fallout. And I was soon done with the pain, the poverty, the rejection, the infirmity, the curses, and best yet, full and BRAND NEW restoration was just around the corner. I was so relieved and so ready to celebrate the win.

Even though I mistakenly assumed that my redemption journey was over, and not just beginning, through that young lady, God literally tossed me a lifeline. His words through her were the glimmer of hope that still burns within me and that carried me through the darkest parts of my soul, uh, path. 

Later I realized that He was telling me that I was the 1 - not the 99 - that Jesus was coming back for. I was the rat in the water, who God popped out for a minute. God was giving me the gift of hope. God was telling me how my story was going to end. In His victory and glory. 

[1] I use hope and faith synonymously. I see them as two sides of the same coin, where you cannot have one without the other. Both of them acknowledge that there is a degree of uncertainty about whether something is true, but yet as both faith and hope in God grow, so does expectation, belief, desire, and trust in God’s Word and His promises.

[2] This prophetess must give Prophetic Words to Christians, and non-Christians, both; otherwise she would not have asked me about my salvation through Jesus.

[3] It wasn’t the first time I had a Word from God. The first time was in 1994. I had been praying to God asking Him if He was real. I didn’t ask for Him to respond. But to my shock and amazement, he did! My dear friend, Bonnie, told me that God has heard my prayers and wants to assure me that He is very real. I was overjoyed that He took the time to respond to me directly! I vowed to never question his existence again. 

[4] After I reminded Nana Mary about the airport prophecy, she stopped getting on me about the posts and considered it okay to make people laugh out loud (and snort!) especially during the isolating and scary pandemic.

[5] I still ponder this Word from God in my heart because I love thrift-store shopping and repurposing things. Regardless, I know that when I get a gift from Our Father, new or not, I will cherish it.