Monday, May 21, 2007
My George Muller moment
Scott and I have decided to bring a few of the youth from our church home with us after morning services on Sundays and bring them back to church in time for the evening service. In this time we have together, we will be able to get better acquainted with these young people. Our very first youth guests came home with us yesterday. We had a great time... we ate lunch, went for a hike in the back yard (one of the girls decided to wade through our pond and we have a great video of that), and returned home to eat watermelon and watch "The Hiding Place", which is a movie telling the true story of Corrie ten Boom and her family. I tell you all of this to explain my very own George Muller moment.
George Muller was a man of awesome faith, who started orphanages in England in the 1800s. He never asked anyone for donations to help run his orphanages, but made his needs known only to God. God provided miraculously for all of the needs of the orphanages. George Muller's faith was so great that he at one time set 300 orphans down at tables set with empty plates, knowing that though the orphanage was out of provisions, God would provide the meal. And he did.
On Saturday, I commented to Scott that I should make a pie for our guests the next day. I sat down with the computer to look for a recipe, but just never found one that looked easy enough. I was mildly disappointed, but it looked like the pie just wasn't to be, so I put it out of my mind. Sunday morning rolled around, and we still had nothing planned for dessert. As I took my place in church, a sweet lady, whom I will call "Ms. Delia", tapped me on the shoulder. "Don't leave after church," she said. "I have something for you in my car." I promised to find her after church was over. Once the service was ended, I became distracted and did not find Ms. Delia, but Scott did. He came over carrying the most delicious looking pie I had ever seen. I questioned him about where the pie came from, then bounded away to find Ms. Delia. I blurted out something like, "How did you know I needed a pie?" She laughed and said that months ago I had told her that her pie was the best I had ever tasted. She had intended to make one for me for some time, but just never got around to it. On Saturday, however, the spirit moved her and she just felt like making that pie for me. When I told her of our plan for the day and how I had wanted a pie but didn't make one, she again laughed and said that the Lord knew why she was making that pie, but she didn't. And it wasn't the first time that such a thing had happened to her.
God knows of and cares about the most insignificant of details. This was not a need that I prayed about, and one could argue that dessert is not even a "need" at all. But it is proof to me that God does indeed know and care about every aspect of our lives. When I read about the baker showing up at the orphanage on Ashley Down with three trays of bread that he had inexplicably spent his entire night baking, I found it astounding and almost unbelievable. God does impress upon us what he wants us to do and many times we don't understand it ourselves. He did it in Bristol in the mid 1800s, and he still does it today, even in the kitchens of little old ladies in middle Tennessee.