Saturday, December 24, 2005
Rosy's Miracle by Nancy Jo Sullivan
(A little story for all of u guys on Christmas.. haha.. enjoy..)
Israel. The shiny black letters were set against the bright yellow background of the brochure. It was posted prominently on the bulletin board in Rosy's college cafeteria. With a backpack flung over her shoulder, Rosy scanned the posted ad as she drank coffee from the styrofoam cup. "Come travel with us... Come see the Holy Land," the flyer said. Memories from her childhood come to mind.
She remembered sitting with her family at church when she was ten years old, the pastor showing slides of Israel. Enchanted, she memorized each sacred place: the rough terrain of the Jordan River, the aqua blue of the Mediterranean Sea, the white stones that framed the tomb of Jesus.
"Please Lord.. let me see Israel someday," she had prayed.
The memory quickly fadedd as the bell for her next class rang. Jotting down the phone number on the brochure, she rushed off to a lecture.
Later that night in her dorm room as she was unable to concentrate on her studies, she held the phone number in her hand. She wanted to call but she knew an international trip was not in her budget. Finances were tight in her family. She was working her way through school, subsidizing financial aid with meager waitress salary.
She picked up the phone anyway. "It won't hurt to call," she told herself.
A youth pastor answered. He was happy to share the Israel itinerary.
"How much will the trip cost?" she asked.
"A thousand dollars," the pastor replied.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't afford it."
"I won't be needing payment until July 1. That will give you three months," he said kindly.
The pastor seemed to sense her disappointment. "Maybe God wants to work a miracle for you. Why don't you pray about it?" he said.
"A miracle," Rosy muttered as she hung up the phone.
She had never thought of asking God for something as big as a miracle.
Her daily prayers had always been generic: "Lord, bless my family.. protect my friends.. help me with this exam..."
How could she ask God for a thousand dollars? God needed to tend to those whose needs were greater than hers - the poor, the lonely, the starving of the world.
She crumpled the phone number and threw it in the wastebasket.
For hours she tried to distract herself with homework, but she kept hearing the pastor's words: Why don't you pray about it?
Soon she was on her knees, her head bowed, her hands folded: "Lord, I'm sorry for asking for so much. I know you are busy answering more urgent prayers," she began, "but I'd like to go to Israel."
As weeks passed, Rosy prayed every night that God would provide a way for her to finance the trip. Though her intercessions were heartfelt, she always apologized for her request.
"Lord, I know this is a lot to ask," she would pray.
The first day of July arrived. Rosy woke up early just as the sun was rising. She was staying at a girlfriend's house in a private room decorated with white linens and a silver wall cross.
Rosy lingered in bed for a while. " It's the last day to turn in the money," she told herself.
A Bible lay close to her bedside. She opened it and began reading a passage from the book of Ezekiel: "I am going to send you to the nation of Israel," the verse proclaimed.
Could the words be meant for her? Rosy closed her eyes. "Lord, give me faith to believe that You can still work a miracle."
Minutes later, her friend knocked on the door. "Let's go out to breakfast," she suggested.
As the two of them drove to a restaurant, her friend pulled into the driveway of a steepled church. "I'll be right back; I've got to drop something off," she told Rosy.
As Rosy waited in the car, she looked toward the garage of the church restory. Inside, she saw a tall man in a flannel shirt. He was fixing a bicycle. She recognised him. He had often ridden past her college, and they had waved to each other many times.
Leaving the car, she walked toward the garage and exchanged a small talk with the man, His name was Lenny, and he was a seminarian. He wanted to be a pastor and was living at the shurch for a year.
His commitment to God had compelled him to live a life of simplicity. He had pared down his possessions, giving his car to a homeless man. He dreamed of serving the poor in a third world country.
"God gives generously so we in turn can do the same," he told Rosy as he oiled the chain of his bike.
Rosy grew quiet.
His simple lifestyle seemed to contradict her fervent prayers for a thousand dollars. Was she wrong in asking God for so much?
"So what are your plans for the rest of the summer?" Lenny asked.
"I think... I'm.... going to Israel," Rosy said.
She told him how she had always hoped to see the Holy Land.
"There's a trip scheduled for August. I can't afford it but I've been praying for a miracle," she said.
Lenny gave the tire on his bike a test twirl. "How much do you need?" he asked.
"A thousand dollars," she said.
"You have been praying that God would answer a prayer of yours, and I've been praying that God would answer a prayer of mine."
He explained that he had recently inherited a large sum of money and that he'd been praying that God would show him what to do with it.
"But last week," he grinned, "I received an additional inheritance of a thousand dollars. Ever since, I've been asking God who it's for."
At first, Rosy didn't understand what he was saying.
"That person is you," Lenny said.
"Me?"
He nodded. "You!"
Minutes later, Lenny handed her a on thousand dollars check dated July 1.
"How should I repay you?" she asked.
Lenny wasn't at all concerned. "Pay it back to someone who needs it more than I do," he said.
So that August, Rosy went to Israel. She hiked along the rocks of the Jordan River, she swam in the cool aqua blue waters of the Mediterranian Sea, and she smelled the fragrant roses that framed the garden tomb of Jesus.
As she trod the homeland of God, she couldn't stop thinking about Lenny's generosity. By sharing an unconditional gift, Lenny had displayed the love of a gracious God who gives without measure or limits. It was a brand of giving that she would model for a lifetime.
Twenty years later, Rosy hasn't forgotten her commitment. Now a wife and mother, she spends her free time working with the poor, encouraging the lonely, and caring for the handicapped.
And whenever she hears of a financial need, she writes out a check, sending it off without a return address.
As she drops the anonymous gift in the mailbox, she remembers the words of Lenny, now a missionary to the poor of the third world. God gives generously so we can do the same.
Beautiful story, isn't it?
