Did God Answer My Prayer?

I couldn’t have captured a better parking spot if I’d prayed for one. The spot was on the end of a row, practically at the Zellers’ front entrance—any closer and it would have been marked ‘handicap’.

Mission accomplished, on my way out of the store, back to my red dirt-streaked van, I passed a hobbling woman. She had a cane. As I hurried past pressing the unlock button on my key, I silently prayed, “Lord, heal her.” I was reaching for the van’s door handle  when the woman with the cane caught up to me, “This isn’t yours.”

“Whoops. I have one just like it.”

“That’s okay. I’ve done that myself. Once I thought my husband was picking me up from work and got in with a total stranger.”

“Your dirt streaks are even similar to mine.”

“Red vans, they’re a dime a dozen.”

“I paid a dime for mine, too.”

We laughed. 

“I recognize mine by the doo-dad on the mirror.”

I looked at the Christmas decoration hanging from the mirror and then down at her cane, “Well, Merry Christmas and I pray your leg gets better.”

Then she told me about her knee operations and that her legs would never be completely well.

“Jesus can heal you. May I pray for you right now?”

“Sure.”

I bent down to touch her leg, “Lord heal these knees…in Jesus name.”

She got into her dirty red van, and filled with joy I headed over to the next row where mine was parked.

I believe God is healing her.

I want to hear about it. I should have given her my phone number.

Sunday Morning Confusion

At our end, it was all arranged. On Sunday Marty and I would be taking separate vehicles to church. He had to be there early to practise for a skit for the Christmas program and I would come later after picking up our friend “A” along with three friends she’d invited.

Ring, Ring, Riiiiinnnngg

“Hi, this is ‘B’. Could you pick me up today? My usual ride, ‘C’ is picking up ‘A’ and three friends.”

“I talked to ‘A’ last evening and I’m picking her up,” I said.

We decided ‘B’  would phone ‘C’ and I would phone ‘A’.

“No” ‘A’ said. “‘C’ is picking up my two of my friends. I’m coming with you.”

Ring, Ring, Riiiiinnnnngg.

“Hi this is ‘B’. ‘C’ is going 2 hours early. May I come with you?”

“Sure.”

Ring, Ring, Ring.

“Hello, this is ‘D’. ‘B’ phoned me and mentioned you are picking her up at 3:30. You can’t pick her up 3:30.
We have to practise the skit at 3:30.”

“I’m not in the skit.”

Ring, Ring, Riiiiinnnnggg.

“AAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggggggggggG”

“Why is mom screaming like a banshee?”

Gender Confusion

I was slouched on the couch engrossed in a Bryce Courtney novel when the phone rang.

“It’s somebody Devankoep,” said my daughter handing me the portable phone displaying the unfamiliar name.

I pressed the talk button “Hello.”

“Hello, this is Tilly Devankoep. I’m calling from the Women’s Guild at the school. We need servers for Friday evening. Is your wife there?”

“I’m it.”

“Oh you like serving too?”

“No, I’m the the wife. I’m a woman.”

“Okay. Could you help us out Friday?”

Early Morning Sky