There’s always going to be days in life when it feels like the enemy of our souls is winning the battles raging against us. As those frustrating moments turn into days…the days roll into years…and the years transform into seasons; our battle-weary hearts cry out in exhaustion and frustration, “How long, O Lord, how long!” (Psalm 13:1). I have heard it said that ‘the complexity of God’s Ways in our life will always be way beyond our own understanding.’ But there is more to this truth than you can even imagine. Every one of those complex circumstances God allows us to encounter in our life; can become for us a snapshot of what it looks like when God’s Hand is in the process of turning our life’s ashes into His Beauty! And by the way, God can use a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g on this earth He chooses, to magnify the realities of His Presence at work in a life…including a vintage hand-dryer, hanging on the wall in a Middle School bathroom!
“Every one of those complex circumstances God allows us to encounter in our life can become for us a snapshot of what it looks like when God’s Hand is in the process of turning our life’s ashes into His Beauty!”
Several years ago, one of the teachers I worked with in a local Middle School, shared an unbelievable story with me. It was such a bizarre storyline, I knew God’s Hand must be in it!
The Science teacher politely dismissed one of his students, Suzy, to go to the restroom. On any given day, this incident would’ve been considered an ordinary, uneventful necessity, but not today! As Suzy finished-up washing her hands and stood drying them before the vintage hand-dryer; the extraordinary happened! She turned her head slightly, just long enough to get a better look at a boy walking past her out in the nearby hallway. In that instant, a section of Suzy’s long, blond hair was sucked up…over the top of…and down into the mechanical workings of the unseen side of that hand-dryer! Now a very unexpected prisoner of a very unexpected assailant, Suzy yelled out in pain, pleading for help. A teacher walking by came to her rescue, more than shocked by what she saw going on. Helpless to do anything, the teacher called for the Custodian. The Custodian arrived on the scene, but was unable to disconnect the electricity, or the hand-dryer from the wall. Finally, the school called Facilities, who sent someone higher-up in the district out to find the solution to this never-before-seen scene. Three l-o-n-g hours later, after shutting off the power in the entire school; the last of Suzy’s singed hair was both pulled and cut from the fan blades and heating element inside that hand-dryer.
Suzy’s head suffered a mild concussion from being pulled so fiercely and held so tightly up against the over-heated dryer for so long a time. Throughout the course of the following week, she continued shedding tiny bundles of the loose strands of the hair that was rescued just short of being totally devoured by this ravenous, mechanical monster! Suzy’s head did heal over time. The bruise on her cheek left by the sudden impact, soon faded away. And her hair grew back twice as thick… but it was a long, long, long time before Suzy considered using any of those vintage school hand-dryers ever again!
Sadly, there were many at the middle school, both staff and students, who viewed Suzy’s run-in with the hand-dryer as a simple case of her ‘getting what she deserved.’ You see, the one thing Suzy’s every-day behavior reflected to the world around her was that she was really good at being really bad.It seemed detention was her chosen lifestyle…and trouble was her assigned name. It’s safe to say that Suzy was well known for all the wrong reasons. It wasn’t uncommon to walk down the hallways and hear teachers wagering friendly bets among themselves concerning ‘how long it might be before Suzy ended up in a teen rehabilitation center for criminal activity!’
By the time Promotion Day at the Middle School arrived that year, there was a sigh of relief like no other during the ceremony, the moment Suzy was handed her ticket to go to High School! She seemed just as surprised as the rest of the staff to have received it! Most of those who watched Suzy walk through those Middle School doors one last time…were hoping against all odds, that Suzy didn’t trade-away the golden ticket she’d been given, just to end up walking through a set of doors leading her into a teen rehab center.
That’s been over fifteen years ago, now. Though all of her teachers have retired, and the doors to that Middle School are now closed for good; the story of Suzy’s run-in with that ‘ravenous mechanical monster’ still lives on in the hearts of all who once knew her! I still chuckle even now whenever I think of it! But on the flip side… I never really gave much thought to how Suzy’s real-life story may have turned out. I would’ve guessed it ended ‘badly,’ but if I had…I ‘d have been wrong.
A few months ago, I was going to Physical Therapy for some pain in my lower back. On my way over to meet with my PT, Jason, my eyes locked with another PT there. Though no words were exchanged, I knew in that instant it was Suzy I was staring at! The entire time I knew her ‘trouble’ had always been her favorite pastime — yet here she stood before me in a brand-new light! She was calm, confident, knowledgeable, and caring while working with a patient of her own. Suzy became what no one at the Middle School could’ve ever foreseen years ago…a certified Physical Therapist who now dedicates her life to helping others find their way back from their troubles to a place of healing and wholeness once more. “How ironic,” I thought to myself walking past Suzy. However, before I reached my own PT, just a few steps away, God was already Whispering His Truth down into my heart, “This is My Grace.”
Suzy’s story is nothing short of AMAZING! She defied every wrong and harmful label this world, and the middle school experience ever tried to define her with. Such a grand transformation never takes place on its own. When Suzy’s path and mine intersected again after fifteen years… I felt like God was giving me one of those snapshots of what it looks like when His Hand has been at work in another’s life, turning ‘ashes’ into His Beauty!
Perhaps that transformational work really began in Suzy’s life that day when an unsuspecting Suzy stepped in front of the vintage hand-dryer at the Middle School. Yes…the task at hand was simple and she’d done it hundreds of times. But on that day, maybe God was teaching her something she’d remember for the rest of her life: Who we are trusting-in to help us navigate life and its trials… really matters! Suzy thought she had things under control, but she lost focus. She turned her eyes away from the hand dryer in front of her for a split second; and unforeseen chaos ensued. Rendered helpless, she cried out in pain, but there was no one around her who knew what to do, or how to rescue her. The answer to Suzy’s dilemma came only by calling someone higher-up on the chain of command.
If you look deep enough at the details of the bizarre circumstances surrounding Suzy that day so long ago, you soon begin to see both Suzy, and her experience with the vintage hand-dryer, as a metaphor for living life. There’s always going to be those unexpected waves of chaos that crash over our hearts; making us doubt whether life will ever level-out again. “Is anyone listening!” we cry out in pain, longing only to be heard and rescued from the trauma it brings. It’s in these desperate moments we need to wash our hands of all the things this broken world is telling us about ourselves; about our helplessness, our unworthiness, and our hopelessness. In these moments, our hearts must remember that ‘it matters Who we call on to help us.’ We need to learn to call out to the Highest Authority in all of life. Cry out to God…the Only One Who is able to Speak His Peace and Hope, and Love and Power into our life’s indecipherable chaos. Unlike the vintage hand-dryer, God is not just blowing hot air our way. He’s Breathing His Life-Giving Words and Promises down into our innermost being so our writhing hearts and parched souls may come to know and experience the reality of His Grace in our own troubled times. You and I can trust that every one of those complex circumstances God allows us to encounter in our lives, is destined to become for us, and for others watching us; a snapshot of what it looks like when God’s Hand is in the process of turning our life’s ashes into His Beauty!
“When we are ‘undone’ in our life,
God is ‘not done’ with us…
He’s only ‘begun!'”
–DA–
” Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him.” (Jeremiah 17:7)
HEART TRAPPINGS PRAYER:
Dearest Heavenly Father, thank you for allowing even my own unwanted back pain to become the catalystYou used to draw mine and Suzy’s life pathways together once more. Though my encounter with Suzy was brief and wordless…Your Own Whispers to my heart were enough to let me knowYour Grace remained in pursuit of her life from the moment she walked out through the doors of the Middle Schooluntil now! Forgive those of us at the school that last day, for so wrongly labeling Suzy as, ‘hopeless and destined fora teen rehab for criminals.’ Lord, even then, You in Your Wisdom saw her as the child You created her to become… rescued, redeemed,and now working inside a Physical Rehabilitation Center where broken people find hope and restoration through Suzy’s capable andcaring hands! What a beautiful snapshot of Your Grace You’ve given to both Suzy and I to dwell upon for the rest of our days! So, so grateful You are the Author and Finisher of our life stories…and not this broken world! You are and always will be the God Who transforms our ashes in life into Your Beauty unimagined!
These are the words that flowed so beautifully from my Granddaughter, Chelsea’s mouth one day after I returned home from work. In her dimpled hand was her Daddy’s cell phone, and on it played the melody that stirred her little heart to sing out these words of Truth. She didn’t just sing them…she belted each word out! Chelsea did so with unbridled passion, even choreographing her own 60-second dance segment in the middle of my kitchen. Grammie and Grandpa’s hearts melted right there on the spot. We stood there clapping, tears rolling down our cheeks, as we watched our little girl’s spontaneous joy and love for God spilling into the room non-stop!
February…or Loveuary, as Hallmark Movies have come to call it, has been defined as, “A month to celebrate love in its entirety.” But not even Hallmark’s most beloved Valentine movie ever…could capture my heart the same way Chelsea’s spontaneous 60-second song-and-dance routine did in my kitchen that day! To me, her passionate routine was a great picture of what life looks like when God is still your First-Love. Her song reflected the words of The One living down inside of her beautiful three-year-old heart. Strong Words…True Words…Uncompromising Words. Jesus’ Words. Words that she both responded to and then chose to share passionately with those around her.
After finishing her dance, Chelsea pulled me down close to her and whispered, “I love Jesus,” into my ear.
“Why do you love Jesus?” I questioned her, just to hear the sweet response she always gave me.
“I love Jesus because Jesus loves me!”
Then she again broke out into an encore of her song and dance, “God is so Strong and so Kind and so Powerful!”
Our love for God is the very foundation on which all of our lives are meant to be lived. Each of us was created by the Hand of Love…to live a life of love. Chelsea’s genuine passion and love for her God was so beautiful and so captivating to be around that day…especially after having spent the day navigating the ‘harshness’ of my work world. Too often, our preoccupied minds and overburdened hearts make us forget that we were made to be loved. We acknowledge our need to be known and loved by our spouse, family, and friends surrounding us, but have a tendency to lose touch with the deepest longings within us to be loved by our Creator…the Lover of our Souls. After all, God’s first and greatest commandment in the Bible is to ‘Love Him First.’ Our calling in life is to “Love the Lord your God with all of your heart and with all of your soul and with all of your mind and with all of your strength” (Deuteronomy 6:5). This is the essence of what we should be striving for in our everyday lives. And on those days when this broken world we live in tries to blur what it looks like to ‘Love God First,’ I think of little Chelsea and her passionate song and dance in my kitchen that day; and am reminded of why I, too, love Jesus…because Jesus Loves me! From now into eternity, choosing God as our First Love is, and always will be, our deepest response back to Him, “The One Who First Loved us!”
“We love because He first loved us.”
(1 John 4:19)
HEART TRAPPINGS PRAYER:
Dearest Heavenly Father,
Forgive us for allowing the things of this broken world to come between You and our love for You. Create in us a clean heart…a heart that continually desires to know You as our First Love in this life. Help us to experience the Strength…Kindness…Love…and Power of living life from Your Perspective in the days to come. Teach us, as you taught little Chelsea, to sing and dance joyfully before You, to the Tune of Your Voice in our hearts, because it changes the world around us. May the Joy of the Lord always be our strength!
“May you be blessed with the Spirit of theseason, which is Peace…the gladness of theseason, which is Hope…and the heart of the season, which is Love.”
–unknown–
Bubble Gum Smiles…
by Debbie Allen
Pastor Jonathan juggled his brief case and a steaming cup of coffee, while making his way up the crumbling, cement steps of the Presbyterian church on Maine Street, in Olde Towne Littleton. It was his church, as well as a second home to him, for the last twenty years. With great difficulty, he struggled to turn his key in the hundred-year-old arched, oak entryway door. Placing a weary shoulder up against the door. he gave it a hefty push until it flung wide open. Once inside the foyer, he secured the door again; knowing it would be a couple of hours before anyone else would enter the building.
A set of double doors which opened up into the small sanctuary before him drew his gaze.
“Hmmmm…someone must have left the lights on last night.” he thought, heading for the switch inside the doors.
Poking his head inside the double doors, his jaw dropped. Hundreds of tiny strands of morning’s first-light streaming in through an eastern exposure of stained-glass windows splattered an array of color across the entire sanctuary in kaleidoscopic beauty. In the midst of this rare display of quiet splendor, Pastor Jonathan’s eyes fixed themselves on his pulpit. It had been beautifully transformed into more of a pedestal of Hope. Stretched out across the top of it, lay a perfect smiling reflection of the little Baby Jesus.
“Good morning, Lord.” Jonathan uttered, smiling back. “And thank you. Thank you for giving me such a beautiful picture to dwell upon this morning.“
Sipping on his coffee, he lingered a moment longer in the sanctuary and then added softly, “I know You surely must mean it as the replacement thought for that dreadful image of the empty green chair that haunts me every morning. But Lord, my heart…it’s still so tender. And the emptiness…well, it just seems so incredibly big.”
Pastor Jonathan continued praying silently, while walking down a narrow corridor leading him into his study. He looked upon this early morning refuge as more a place of solace than of duty. Lately, these early hours provided him a much-needed hiding place, to escape his unwanted thoughts of the empty green chair back at home. His wife, Lorna’s chair. The one sitting so silently in a corner of his living room.
“Only six short months ago…” he thought, shaking his head. That’s when the cancer stole her away from him so suddenly. Every morning since then, he tried to turn his eyes away from the chair as he passed by it. But the image remained…as if branded into his thoughts. Plagued by the thought of it, Pastor Jonathan made his way over to his desk and sat down to try and focus on Sunday’s sermon.
The ‘Big Green Chair’ in Pastor Jonathan’s life haunted him daily with thoughts of the unexpected emptiness that still consumed him in this season of overwhelming loss.
Opening his Bible, he read quietly for the next hour and a half. Thats when his eyes fell upon these words in Ecclesiastes.
“Everything is appropriate in its own time. But though God has planted eternity in the hearts of men, even so, many cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.” he read aloud. (Ecclesiastes 3:11).
His Bible still in hand, he walked a few steps beyond his desk to bask in a shaft of warm sunlight, streaming in through a cathedral window.
“Everything is appropriate in its own time.” he repeated again.
“How true this is, Lord. Even as a man of God, I can barely see my way past this one green chair in my life.”
“E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.” No doubt this word includes my emptiness.” He said in a reflective tone.
Glancing up from his book, Pastor Jonathan caught sight of a group of small children waving at him from the courtyard below. He couldn’t help but smile as they giggled and ran away the very minute he acknowledged them. In a remote corner of that same courtyard, he spotted a young couple almost hidden by a maple tree reaching over them like an enormous umbrella. Studying them for a bit, he shook his head sadly, as he watched the young man storm-off in another direction, leaving the girl sobbing in the corner by herself.
“Emptiness again, Lord. It is in every corner of our world these days.”
Returning to his desk, he grabbed his pen. Eyeing a blank page in his journal, he began to write:
Monday…Oct.4, 1998
Concerning ‘emptiness…’
A blank piece of paper. The silence of a song whose melody remains unwritten. A green chair where no one comes to sit anymore. The strained beating of a heart steeped in the pain of a broken relationship…
All of these are reflections of the shadowy side of life. They each speak of a hidden void which eventually seeps into every human soul, as we encounter our battles in life. Each in its own way reeks of the cruelty of emptiness. But Lord… Is it ever possible for emptiness to present itself as a ‘gift’ in this world?
By now Pastor’s two deep-brown eyes had taken refuge under the precipice of his great brow. Spidery creases ran throughout his forehead like little tributaries, cut there by a swelling river of concern for the needs of those all around him. In the midst of wrestling with life, Pastor Jonathan glanced up to find three-year-old, Jenny standing silently in the doorway; just looking at him.
“Well, hello Jenny.” He said, surprised to see anyone standing there.
Jenny had been one of the children who waved to him from the courtyard a few moments earlier.
“Just what is it that brings you in here today, little one?” he said, kneeling down to her eye level.
Jenny immediately flashed a million-dollar smile back at him before answering.
“Mmm…nuffing, Pastor Jonafin.” she managed to say before shrugging and looking down at her feet. “Mommy is parking the car. She said for me to wait here… an…ummm…I have sumfing for you.”
With these precious words, Jenny opened her tightly crumpled fingers revealing three shiny, new pennies.
“For you.” She repeated, her eyes sparkling like diamonds as she spilled them out into his giant hand.
“For you,” Jenny repeated, her eyes sparkling like diamonds as she spilled three shiny new pennies into Pastor Jonafin’s giant hand.”
Carefully, she folded his fingers up around the pennies, pushing his hand gently away from her.
Even though her hand was now empty, Pastor Jonathan could see that her heart remained as full as any three-year-old’s heart could ever be.
You see, as she stood in the doorway of his office earlier, she studied the look he wore on his face. Every line…. every grimace…every fold troubled her. Though she could not begin to understand the reason for them; somehow… in the wisdom of a little child, she knew she needed to do something to bring back his missing smile. The one she so loved seeing on his face.
“Thank you, Jenny…thank you!”
His heart still melting inside his chest, he reached up and pulled her face into his gaze. He could find no more words, but she seemed perfectly content with the ear-to-ear grin he now displayed.
“It wooked!” she shrieked, giving Pastor Jonathan a big hug.
Right away she remembered the joy she felt when her Mommy placed those pennies into her own hand that morning. Immediately, visions of pink bubblegum began to dance in her head! And…in the mind of this three-year-old ‘visionary’, the same miracle just worked for Pastor Jonathan too.
Watching her skip out the door, Pastor Jonathan sighed, feeling as though he’d just been given a bear-hug by God Himself.
“Whoever thinks to look for the answer to some of the world’s biggest problems in some of the world’s smallest places…in the hand of a child?” he marveled silently.
With pen-in-hand, he again sat down to write. Seeing the three shiny pennies on the desk before him continued to warm his thoughts, filling up his heart like the warm waters of a sweet tea descending into an empty cup. Closing his eyes, he pictured Jenny’s little hand laying in his own giant palm. When those three pennies fell from her hand into his, he clearly remembered hearing a still small Voice within him saying, “Come to Me…and let Me teach you.”
Inspired by Jenny’s generosity, Pastor Jonathan’s thoughts flowed faster than his ink could form the words on paper.
“Truly…” he wrote, “…even emptiness, is appropriate in its own time.” Within the next thirty minutes, he completed Sunday’s sermon. He entitled it, “Unselfish Giving”.
The following Sunday, Pastor Jonathan delivered this message to his congregation. Not one dry eye remained in the sanctuary by the time he finished speaking…including his own. As he stepped from behind his podium after the service, a man intercepted him before he could reach the foyer.
“Here you go, Pastor. These are for you!” a man spoke through a toothy grin, before dropping three quarters into his hand.
“There’s one for each of Jenny’s pennies.” he explained. “Thank you.” Pastor said, still somewhat taken back by such a gesture. On his way to the foyer, another member of the congregation stepped forward and placed three one-dollar bills in his hand.
“Powerful message…” the lady said still daubing her eyes as she walked away from him.
To his astonishment, one of the choir members intercepted him in the parking lot, handing him three one-hundred-dollar bills.
Watching the man walk away, Pastor Jonathan sat humbled, and speechless in his car; overwhelmed by the generosity and response of so many in his congregation.
“How could I have ever doubted what You are able to accomplish through the hand of a little child, Lord?” he pondered on the drive home.
And so, it went throughout the next week. Every morning when Pastor Jonathan entered his study, he continued to find new stacks of donations in a pile on his desk. After giving it much thought, he decided he needed to do something special with the money.
“Janice…” he said, peeking his head out the door in search of the church secretary. “You know that drinking fountain we’ve been needing in this foyer for so long?”
“Yes, Pastor…” she replied in a hopeful tone.
“Go ahead and have it installed.” “Oh and…one more thing. I need you to have a bronze plaque made with these words inscribed on it,” he added walking towards her.
Her brow scrunched; Janice picked her way through the scribbles written down on the little piece of paper he handed her.
“JENNY’S THREE PENNY FOUNTAIN,” she read aloud, a giant grin of approval overtaking her frown.
“That’s right, Janice. I want to dedicate the fountain to little Jenny. I want it to be a constant reminder to those of us who pass through this foyer, of how God takes such small beginnings and turns them into a much greater end.”
“I’ll give her parents a call, too.” Janice added, turning to pick up the phone.
On the following Sunday, Pastor dedicated that new drinking fountain to little Jenny. Slipping her small hand into his own, they both approached the fountain together.
“Do you know what that sign says, Miss Jenny?” Pastor inquired, pointing up at the little bronze plaque hanging above it.
Tilting her head to one side like she’d been reading since birth, Jenny recited, “Jenny’s Thwee Penny Fowtain.”
“That’s exactly right…and now you get to take the first drink from your fountain,” he said, picking her up so she could reach the spigot.
“Mmmmm…the water’s just prefit!” she said in a very grown-up way, wiping the overspray from her cheek.
Pastor smiled, knowing she’d meant to say perfect.
“Indeed, it is, Jenny.‘‘Prefit’ in every way!” he added letting a mouthful of the cool waters tumble into his own open lips.
Waving good-bye to Jenny, he watched her walk away with her parents, still wiping water from her face.
Bending down to sip again from the fountain, something else occurred to him:
The Greatest Blessing that this world has ever known also entered into this world through the emptiness of a little Child’s Hand. God’s Child…the Baby Jesus. From the emptiness of a manger, Jesus’ little Hand reached out into the darkness of this world. Those tiny fingers contained the price of One life, which He willingly spilled out into the hands of this world, to purchase a Fountain for His Church...a Fountain that flows Forevermore!
Pastor’s eyes fell upon the bronze plaque once more. Running his fingers across each individual letter, he whispered softly,
“Lord… Your plaque would’ve read, “Jesus’ Fountain of Living Water.”
Touched by this thought, Pastor Jonathan continued to marvel at how many ways God had chosen to weave the story of Jenny’s ‘Three Penny Fountain’ into his own emptiness. Heading into his office for the last time, he sat down at his desk to make one final entry into his journal for the week. Eagerly, he wrote the answer to his question from the Oct. 4th entry.
Sunday…Oct.16, 1998
Concerning the Gift of Emptiness:
Lord…I ask this question once again, “Is it ever possible for ‘emptiness’ to present itself as a gift to this world?” From the perspective of both a Pastor and a child of God, all of the wisdom that is needed to answer this question still lays in the Hand of a Child…Your Son, Lord. From the Wisdom of a little Child my heart has come to know these truths:
Carefully, she folded his fingers up around the pennies, pushing his hand gently away from her.
Even though her hand was now empty, Pastor Jonathan could see that her heart remained as full as any three-year-old’s heart could ever be.
You see, as she stood in the doorway of his office earlier, she studied the look he wore on his face. Every line…. every grimace…every fold troubled her. Though she could not begin to understand the reason for them; somehow… in the wisdom of a little child, she knew she needed to do something to bring back his missing smile. The one she so loved seeing on his face.
“Thank you, Jenny…thank you!”
His heart still melting inside his chest, he reached up and pulled her face into his gaze. He could find no more words, but she seemed perfectly content with the ear-to-ear grin he now displayed.
“It wooked!” she shrieked, giving Pastor Jonathan a big hug.
Right away she remembered the joy she felt when her Mommy placed those pennies into her own hand that morning. Immediately, visions of pink bubblegum began to dance in her head! And…in the mind of this three-year-old ‘visionary’, the same miracle just worked for Pastor Jonathan too.
Watching her skip out the door, Pastor Jonathan sighed, feeling as though he’d just been given a bear-hug by God Himself.
“Whoever thinks to look for the answer to some of the world’s biggest problems in some of the world’s smallest places…in the hand of a child?” he marveled silently.
With pen-in-hand, he again sat down to write. Seeing the three shiny pennies on the desk before him continued to warm his thoughts, filling up his heart like the warm waters of a sweet tea descending into an empty cup. Closing his eyes, he pictured Jenny’s little hand laying in his own giant palm. When those three pennies fell from her hand into his, he clearly remembered hearing a still small Voice within him saying, “Come to Me…and let Me teach you.”
Inspired by Jenny’s generosity, Pastor Jonathan’s thoughts flowed faster than his ink could form the words on paper.
“Truly…” he wrote, “…even emptiness, is appropriate in its own time.” Within the next thirty minutes, he completed Sunday’s sermon. He entitled it, “Unselfish Giving”.
The following Sunday, Pastor Jonathan delivered this message to his congregation. Not one dry eye remained in the sanctuary by the time he finished speaking…including his own. As he stepped from behind his podium after the service, a man intercepted him before he could reach the foyer.
“Here you go, Pastor. These are for you!” a man spoke through a toothy grin, before dropping three quarters into his hand.
“There’s one for each of Jenny’s pennies.” he explained. “Thank you.” Pastor said, still somewhat taken back by such a gesture. On his way to the foyer, another member of the congregation stepped forward and placed three one-dollar bills in his hand.
“Powerful message…” the lady said still daubing her eyes as she walked away from him.
To his astonishment, one of the choir members intercepted him in the parking lot, handing him three one-hundred-dollar bills.
Watching the man walk away, Pastor Jonathan sat humbled, and speechless in his car; overwhelmed by the generosity and response of so many in his congregation.
“How could I have ever doubted what You are able to accomplish through the hand of a little child, Lord?” he pondered on the drive home.
And so, it went throughout the next week. Every morning when Pastor Jonathan entered his study, he continued to find new stacks of donations in a pile on his desk. After giving it much thought, he decided he needed to do something special with the money.
“Janice…” he said, peeking his head out the door in search of the church secretary. “You know that drinking fountain we’ve been needing in this foyer for so long?”
“Yes, Pastor…” she replied in a hopeful tone.
“Go ahead and have it installed.” “Oh and…one more thing. I need you to have a bronze plaque made with these words inscribed on it,” he added walking towards her.
Her brow scrunched; Janice picked her way through the scribbles written down on the little piece of paper he handed her.
“JENNY’S THREE PENNY FOUNTAIN,” she read aloud, a giant grin of approval overtaking her frown.
“That’s right, Janice. I want to dedicate the fountain to little Jenny. I want it to be a constant reminder to those of us who pass through this foyer, of how God takes such small beginnings and turns them into a much greater end.”
“I’ll give her parents a call, too.” Janice added, turning to pick up the phone.
On the following Sunday, Pastor dedicated that new drinking fountain to little Jenny. Slipping her small hand into his own, they both approached the fountain together.
“Do you know what that sign says, Miss Jenny?” Pastor inquired, pointing up at the little bronze plaque hanging above it.
Tilting her head to one side like she’d been reading since birth, Jenny recited, “Jenny’s Thwee Penny Fowtain.”
“That’s exactly right…and now you get to take the first drink from your fountain,” he said, picking her up so she could reach the spigot.
“Mmmmm…the water’s just prefit!” she said in a very grown-up way, wiping the overspray from her cheek.
Pastor smiled, knowing she’d meant to say perfect.
“Indeed, it is, Jenny.‘‘Prefit’ in every way!” he added letting a mouthful of the cool waters tumble into his own open lips.
Waving good-bye to Jenny, he watched her walk away with her parents, still wiping water from her face.
Bending down to sip again from the fountain, something else occurred to him:
The Greatest Blessing that this world has ever known also entered into this world through the emptiness of a little Child’s Hand. God’s Child…the Baby Jesus. From the emptiness of a manger, Jesus’ little Hand reached out into the darkness of this world. Those tiny fingers contained the price of One life, which He willingly spilled out into the hands of this world, to purchase a Fountain for His Church...a Fountain that flows Forevermore!
Pastor’s eyes fell upon the bronze plaque once more. Running his fingers across each individual letter, he whispered softly,
“Lord… Your plaque would’ve read, “Jesus’ Fountain of Living Water.”
Touched by this thought, Pastor Jonathan continued to marvel at how many ways God had chosen to weave the story of Jenny’s ‘Three Penny Fountain’ into his own emptiness. Heading into his office for the last time, he sat down at his desk to make one final entry into his journal for the week. Eagerly, he wrote the answer to his question from the Oct. 4th entry.
Sunday…Oct.16, 1998
Concerning the Gift of Emptiness:
When you find yourself staring into an empty page…let His Words fill in the blanks.
When facing the unbearable emptiness of a big green chair…Know that His Shoulder is already waiting there for you to cry on.
If it is a song in life, you lack…the melody has already been written for you. It is Jesus’ Love Song, written especially for you. The Melody of this Song can always be heard…above even the loudest pounding of your broken heart.
Whatever you find to be the ‘emptiness’ in your cup…allow the Hand of Jesus to spill Love into your own hand. Let Him sweeten your life and fill your cup with the Waters which flow from His Fountain. It is the Fountain that will always flow; with the unspoken and unforeseen blessings found so unexpectedly hidden in the emptiness of a little Child’s Hand. Though sometimes we can’t see it, nonetheless it is there. God put it there…perhaps as a reminder to each of us of the “Blessedness of Emptiness!”
“Come to Me…and let Me teach you.”
(John 11:28a, 30b)
HEART TRAPPINGS
PRAYER: Dearest Heavenly Father…we live in a broken world where it seems unwanted emptiness of every kind taunts us at every turn in life. When the weight of it presses-in upon our frail hearts; keep us from surrendering to the pressures of it. and falling prey to the lies that surround it. Enable us to hear Your Whispers crying out to us instead… beckoning our hearts to see past the emptiness and find the Gift that awaits us there. Like little Jenny and Pastor Jonathan, may we discover for ourselves, those ‘bubblegum smiles’ in life that can also prove to be Gateways leading us to Your very Presence, Lord…. and You are the Gift we find right in the midst of our every ’emptiness.’ Teach our hearts to heed Your Words and Truths in the coming new year, Lord.
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