People today live hurried, stressed-out lives. Between the demands on us from our jobs and families, it's not surprising that the only down-time many of us seem to get is the precious few hours of sleep every night. It seems the only time we stop and smell the roses is when we spray the artificial fragrance from a can of air freshener.It's time to change that. It's time we slow down, breathe the fragrance of the Holy Spirit, and tell others of the ways that we have experienced and known God's love in our lives.
I'll go first. I'll try to keep it short, so everyone gets a turn to share their story.
The time that comes to mind of knowing God's love happened last summer. At the time I was a section manager in a busy public service office, and had just finished a week full of employee drama and a few missed deadlines. That Saturday I decided to go to a park with my pen, my journal, and my Bible, and spend some time with God. My plan was to re-hash the events. I suppose I wanted to see what I could have done differently and come up with a strategy for the following week.
Shortly after I got settled at the park I saw a gray dove walking on the lawn about ten feet from me. At that moment I sensed Jesus telling me that whatever burdens I was carrying were His now, and that this moment was intended to be spent in the peace of His presence. Immediately the stress of the past week was relieved. When I arrived at the park, I was expecting tears of frustration. Instead I had tears of joy from experiencing God's love for me.
Now it's someone else's turn to share. Who's next?
1 comment:
I'll go. The other day my grandson was sitting down to eat. He had a little attitude and during my interaction with him, I had told him to just eat his food. He replied, " I don't want to eat the stinky food". So I had to ask him to say sorry about the food and his attitude about it. So he said sorry and I told him not to say sorry to me. So he said sorry, one by one, to all that were in the house. This happened because I kept telling him that that wasn't who he needed to say sorry to. After asking him who made/gave us the food, he didn't get it. So I finally asked him, a tad exasbirated, who do you pray to? Than he got the answer right. So he apologized to God for his comment about the food. Suddenly, in my spirit I felt/heard a very loving " you welcome". So I told Michael, God said you're welcome.
That's my story and I'm sticking with it.
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