Did you hear the one about...?

I believe in testimony. It’s a simple way for us to remind each other of the power of God in our lives, of where we are and who we are and what we represent. It’s a good way to reach out to a neighbor and give them a goose, a pat, some encouragement. It’s really good if you’re in a small, informal church, like the ones I attend, so you know everyone and everyone who wants to speak has a chance to.

Recently, I gave a testimony. It was preceded and followed by testimonies about brain tumors disappearing and families being saved from paralysis through the power of prayer, about God hearing a prayer said during a coma and passing the word on to the physician. That was a really good one.

Here is an amplified version of my testimony:

Since I came to Houston, I have been given many opportunities to help others by giving them some money. When I have the money, I do this, because I have never reached the end of the week and thought If I just hadn’t given that guy $2 for food or $20 so he could a room on a cold night, I would have enough money to get what I need.

(My mother says you should do this because you never know when they might be angels. The guy I gave the $20 to wanted to pray with me and hold my hand, and the whole time I just kept thinking I am going to get the flu from this guy. But I didn’t.)

This week we saw a guy digging through the trash at McDonalds, and I asked him if he needed something to eat, and he said yes. So I gave him $6. And then other things came up, (I adopted a kitten and had to get him some stuff), and I was worried that I was going to run short. And I was thinking that maybe I would need to count that Alms-giving as part of my Offering and give less at church.

It was time to do laundry, and I gathered up all the quarters we had and I got a $20 bill and put it in my pocket. We got to the laundromat and got the machines loaded, and it was time to get the quarters, and I looked in my pocket for that bill, and it wasn’t there. I had two fives and four ones and the quarters, and no twenty. I looked and looked. I looked in pockets I knew I had not put it in, and I thought well, I must have set it down instead of putting it in my pocket.

But we got the laundry done, and were down to the last dryer, and thought maybe we needed one more dollar’s worth of quarters, and I put my hand in my pocket, and there was that twenty dollar bill.

Now, you can say I am just a crazy old woman who can‘t keep track of things (or if you’re one of my kids, that the Brownies have been in my pockets, although I certainly hope they have not), but to me, that was God saying “As long as You’re with me, there will always be enough“.

That was my testimony. Everyone enjoyed it. The Chaplain said that it was good because we frequently forget to acknowledge God in the little things that happen in our lives.



The next week, it was time to go to Chapel, and I put some treats in the kitten’s bowl, so he wouldn’t follow me, and that was the last I saw of him. I was distraught. I am crazy about this kitten. And I prayed and prayed. Please bring him home. And someone did. He was just a few rows over, and when Paul Nolan found out I was looking for him, he carried him home.

So, I go back to Chapel, and people are giving testimonies. But this time, I didn’t stand up and say The Lord brought my kitten home. The Lord gave me a friend, who knew I was missing my baby and took the time to catch and carry him back. Thank you, Paul. Thank you Lord.

Other people where telling more stories about blindness turning into light, more brain tumors disappearing, and I just didn’t think a kitten coming home noting mentioning.

But I was wrong. I should have said so. It was God’s Hand and it should have been acknowledged.

So I am acknowledging it here, and I am saying this is what I was reminded:

God is in the Big Things.

God is in the Small Things.

Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received. -- 1 Peter 4:10

An Imaginary Conversation with An Atheist

The Atheist is a personable young man, nice looking but nothing extraordinary. He is wearing a brown checked blazer and an unexplained dark red shirt. I am me. In a lilac tea dress.

We are seated at a little round table on a sunny veranda with an expansive view. Like a balcony at Kings Landing or something out of a Maxfield Parrish painting.

The Atheist has a carafe of red wine which he offers to share.

“I don’t drink.”

“Oh, yeah, because you’re a Christian.”

“Because I made a decision not to drink, and I don’t miss it. And I don’t like red wine. I prefer a blush or rose.”

“Oh,” he says. Then, “So why are we here? So you can convert me?"

“Not at all.”

I can see in his face that he doesn’t trust that response. “Isn’t that your mission?”

I make a non-committal noise. “Some people, yes. But I am not an evangelist. My ministry, if you will let me call it that…”

“Call it whatever you like,” he says, not unkindly.

“Thank you. I like to call it a ministry. My ministry is for those who already believe. To share ideas and experiences and help Christians lead a Christian life in a difficult world. And if I pick up some people along the way, that’s okay, too.”

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“I would like you to entertain the idea that there are other possibilities.”

“There are no rational possibilities.”

“And I would like you to stop insinuating that because I believe, I am intellectually inferior to you.”

He wants to chuckle. He cannot make that concession.

“Perhaps instead we can say that you are spiritually stunted.”

“Spiritually stunted? What is that?”

“A joke actually. I don’t want to get snarky. Maybe you wouldn’t mind being spiritually stunted.

“You know, belief in a higher power is inherent in mankind. Remember when they found that lost tribe in the Amazon, and it turned out they were fake? The first person who doubted them was a linguist who found that they had no reference to God. Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

“Belief in a higher power is always more prevalent among the uneducated. Exposure to the world, to intellectual pursuits tends to lessen the need for religion. Amazonian tribes believed eclipses were the Gods. Evidence proved them wrong.”

“Evidence can lead to any conclusion if you look at it the right way. Like the Ancient Aliens people. Have you seen the guy with the crazy hair?” I wave my hand around my head to illustrate, and he knows exactly who I mean. “If you only look at the evidence that supports your conclusion, you can conclude anything is true.”

“I could say the same thing to you.”

“That’s true, you could.”

“There’s no evidence that the Jews were ever held in captivity in Egypt.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that.”

“That kind of throws out about half the Old Testament, doesn’t it? And how can your version on God be the only just and true version, and an Islam’s version of God also be the just and true God?”

“Those are really big questions and valid questions. But just because I don’t have the answers doesn’t mean I discard the whole concept. It’s a little conceited to think that just because I don’t understand something it’s invalid. I can’t do the Saturday New York Times crossword, but that doesn’t mean it’s stupid. I am.”

“Not the same thing.”

“No, not quite. I watched a stand up routine that Bill Maher did a few years ago.”

“That must have been fun. Were you forced?”

“No, I love Bill Maher. What bothered me the most was this little fake nervous laugh he had affected. He was talking about the dichotomy of God and Jesus being the same thing, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. So he just threw it all out. As if there couldn’t be any concept in the Universe bigger than his own mind. That’s what I would like you to stop.”

“I am not Bill Maher,” he says.

“Not today,” I say, but he doesn’t get it, so I move on.

“You know, when you die, if I’m right, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do. But when I die, if you’re right, well, no one will ever know.”

We laugh.

“Is that supposed to change my mind?”

“No, just an observation. Is there anything I could say that would change your mind?”

“No, is there anything I can say that would change your mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t see how you can believe in a God who allows so much suffering in the world. And so much of it done in the name of religion.”

I am silent for a moment, because it is hard sometimes to accept that God lets babies dies or thugs beat up old women for the few dollars in their purse or that He allowed AIDS to happen and in its horrible aftermath, people, otherwise good people, to hate the ones who got sick. That sort of thing. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember to call on Him when you feel like He’s left you in a deep dark hole.

“There’s a bird that lays two eggs. Not at the same time. The second one is just insurance in case something happens to the first one.”

“Yes,” he says. “Golden Eagles, for one. The Cain and Abel birds.”

“Yes, the Cain and Abel birds. So the second one doesn’t get fed, eventually gets crowded out of the nest, falls to the forest floor and dies. Probably gets eaten by weasels or something. When I first heard about these bird, I used to lay awake nights, thinking how cruel that was.”

“Was this when you were a child?”

“Early twenties, I think. It still bothers me. There had to be a way for that bird to evolve that didn’t involve such suffering. Other birds did it. But Nature is what it is.”

“God is what he is?”

“Yeah, and He presents us puzzles and unanswered questions and unbearable cruelties and things we just can’t fathom. And joy and happiness and kindness and love that are also unbearably good.

“I can’t change your mind, because belief in God in not an intellectual process. I believe what I believe because of the Power of the Spirit.”

“And I am Spiritually Stunted.”

“I hope not. I hope you’re just Spiritually Asleep, and someday you’ll wake up. Because you may be imaginary, but you seem very nice.”

The Atheist shakes his head and orders a carafe of White Zinfandel.

Don’t you realize that it is God’s kindness that is trying to lead you to him and change the way you think and act? Romans 2:4 [God's Word]