IF WE LISTEN...IF WE TRUST....

I have believed for many years that the Lord not only has a sense of humor, but that He has a poetic mind. Where else would we have received our literary and artistic talents if not from the giver of all good things?

And He’s gracious. He speaks to us in ways we understand, just as Jesus spoke through parables.

The Lord still does this for us today…if we listen…if we trust.

Last November I felt the Lord nudge my heart to take a giant leap of faith. Would I trust God enough to put aside my own agenda for my career and the writing of my fictional work to do a special task for Him? Children’s Camps International needed someone to write their story, but did not have the funds to pay for it. Would I trust the Lord enough to provide for my family’s needs while I completed this assignment non-gratis? In other words, could I trust God to pay my wages?

The tug of the CCI story was too strong to ignore. How could any writer not be pulled into the true-life adventures, the testing of God’s power, the fulfilling feats of faith, and the miracles of such a worthwhile ministry to children? I simply couldn't’t resist, and threw our financial needs into the lap of my heavenly father as I set hard to work. Besides, what’s more important than helping people preach the gospel of Christ to children? Life is too short to worry about building greater metaphorical barns and houses for myself.

Seven months later, I’m 2/3rd’s of the way through the book, but God has taken my breath way with His faithfulness to our family. Someone once said you can never out-give God.

It doesn’t make any logical sense that while I’m not bringing in a ‘proper’ wage that God in so short a time has eliminated ALL our debt, lowered our monthly mortgage and household expenses by the intricate transaction of our house sale. I may have lost the equity of a fairly large backyard at my old house, but I now look out on gently rolling pastures, where just beyond a line of trees the might Fraser River flows. From my office window my ‘back yard’ view grew exponentially larger. I may not own the deed to that land, but I sure can enjoy its beauty.

The other day from my kitchen balcony, I watched the farmer across the road harvest his field. His tractor gathered up the sweet smelling hay into bales. The next day his tractor rumbled along his fields to take the bales away to store in his barn for the winter. As the sun set over the coastal mountains, the rays caught the grassy dust so that the air and the field shimmered like gold.

Only God would know how much those sights and scents would mean to me as I write the CCI book. The theme of the camp work in India and other parts of the world centers on the farming seasons of seeding, cultivating, and harvesting. Only instead of sweet smelling hay, the fragrance wafting up to the Lord is the incense of a great spiritual harvest—millions of souls loving Christ as savior.

I took care last November to not make any bargains with God as I committed to this task. I’m old enough and have been through enough life with God to know He doesn’t barter for our faithfulness. He asks, and waits for our obedience. All I knew for sure at the time was that He would provide what I needed.

Only thing is, He is such a wonderful father, and gave me more than I ever dreamed. I can’t thank Him enough. But enough of chit-chat. It’s time for me to get back to the task he entrusted me with last November. With His power and enabling, He will finish the CCI literary work at the season’s end.