Wednesday, February 4, 2009


My earliest memory of feeling/sensing/hearing that unmistakable prompt from God goes back about half my life into my early teen years. The season and the occasion are long forgotten. The setting was a seemingly a non-descript mid-day meal at Wendy's with my dad. His presence made it special. As we left the building, a woman was seated on the curb just to the left of the black iron railing that marked the entrance. I cannot picture her face or recall her attire, I simply remember an impression of deep sadness about her. As we crossed the driveway and passed her line of vision, I realized God was telling me to go tell her that He loved her. Unlike Hosea, I didn't. I've obviously not forgotten that part. I do remember walking heavily towards my dad's red and white ford pick-up truck, arguing needlessly about the should's and shouldn'ts of making such a statement to the unknown lonely woman. I wish I could tell you it was my last such argument.

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