First the Blade
© 2019 by Larry Nevenhoven
Building Mustard-Seed Faith (l)
Like Joseph’s two dreams, I had just enough revelation from my impressions and dreams to get me in trouble, which was probably how the Lord planned my adventure.
The people in the house and the home fellowship were amazed God would send a man, whom they had never met, via a dream to pray and encourage them. It was an exciting evening for all of us.
But I assumed someone would offer me a place to stay overnight in his home or apartment, but no one did. Nobody even asked why my truck was loaded with household goods and clothing. What were they thinking? I don’t know.
I could have asked them, but I didn’t. You see, I believe that if God is leading me then it is His responsibility to provide for me.
What did I do?
I drove off and prayed as I went down the street. The only idea, which came into my mind, was a nearby truck stop. I drove there, parked the truck, pulled two blankets out of the back, and slept in the cab. It was a late-October cold night.
In the morning, it dawned on me: God sent me here to trap me. Why? I had no clue.
I spent one of my precious quarters on coffee at a grocery store. I then went to the small city park and prayed all day. That night I went back to the truck stop and slept there again.
The next morning, I spent another quarter for coffee and prayed all day at the park.
At 6:30 in the evening, while I was praying, I had a quick glimpse of my answer: a scrap metal yard. I drove there, but it was closed for the day. It was another cold night at the truck stop.
The next morning after spending my last quarter on coffee, I went to the scrap yard and asked for the owner. He was gone until late in the afternoon.
“What did you need to see him for? Maybe, I can help you,” said the receptionist.
“I’m a Christian and just needed to see him,” I said.
“His wife can probably help you. I’ll give you directions to their house,” she said. She wrote directions down a piece of paper and handed it to me.
The home was only a mile away so I had enough gas to get there. I parked in the driveway and walked toward the house. Somehow, as I walked, I realized they were Catholics. I rang the doorbell.
While waiting on the porch, the Holy Spirit descended on me with all of His holiness. I wept and wept. And in that moment, I was delivered of my judgmental attitude of believing people had to attend specific churches or risk being out of the will of God.
The aftermath of this story was the people invited me to stay overnight in their warm home. They took me to breakfast the next morning and gave me $10 for gasoline. I drove back to my hometown. There I stopped at a business establishment who hired me for a painting project. I then visited my pastor and she had something for me.
It seemed the Lord laid my situation on a person’s heart. He sent a $200 check to my pastor for me.
Hopefully, this testimony underlines the importance of being careful of what we listen to? What else can we do?
(Continued…but if you want to read all of the parts to date, you can go here.)