By Joyce Stclair
Not long ago, I was so impressed as an eye witness to God's love for just one of His own, that I decided to share the experience...
One day, I got a pop-up memory of someone I love very much, but have not seen or talked to in over thirty years. I spent the next two days trying to brush off the feeling, but it just intensified. Why did she come to my mind so strong when I had not thought of her in so many years? I made a call and learned she was in the hospital and was not expected to live. In that moment I knew the two days I had ignored God's quiet voice could have cost me more than I was able to bear. God in His master plan had given notice to one child of another's need.
My husband agreed to give me a ride the next morning to the hospital. I got up with both sadness and joy that I might see what I believe to be one of the most important people of my lifetime. My husband was ready and still waiting on me to get dressed. Next, a second strange thing took place. I stood in that closet so long that my husband grew impatient with me. (In a typical day, it's usually the other way around.) He stood in the doorway and asked, "What is the problem? Do you realize you have been in here for more than a half hour? You may not get here on time, it's more than an hour's ride to the hospital."
With every word he spoke a tear would fall. I knew he was right, but every single dress hanging in that closet just would not do. I cannot even explain why. My fingers thumbed back and forth through every piece, each time stopping on a red dress with no sleeves. I would say, "That's crazy - you can't wear that - it's the middle of the winter and 20 degrees outside." Why would fifteen other dresses not work? I'd never had a problem picking a dress off the rack before.
With frustration, I told the Lord my husband was getting angry and I'm wasting precious time - help me, Lord. I turned again toward the rack and let the Lord answer my problem, thumbing one more time across the rack. Guess what dress I stopped on? You guessed it - the red dress! I never would have worn it of my own will. I was going to freeze because it was the Lord's will, if I heard Him correctly. Once again, if I would have listened to His still, small voice the first time I stopped on the red dress, I would have been out of the closet and would have arrived at the hospital thirty minutes sooner. Seeing my husband's impatience, I found the longest furry coat that wrapped all the way around in an attempt to stay warm, and we left.
The family was present and had been there for three or four days. We had never met before, so we spoke for a moment about who I was, and how I knew their mother. They had only known of my name because their mother had frequently mentioned a child that she loved and continued to pray for. Glad to finally put a face to a name, she said, "Mother always called you by my name." (We share the same name.) "Yesterday, Mother said she did not want anyone to cry at her funeral and she wanted everyone to wear red.
I thought my spirit would jump right out of me. I sprang up from my chair and flung my coat open to reveal my red dress. My husband stood over in the corner with his mouth open in silence, knowing what we both went through to get me in it. Her family was speechless. They said, "There is no way you could have known because Grandma just said it yesterday." But God heard it. In granting her wish, He set before the unbelieving present, His love for His own.
Her daughter told me her mother had stopped speaking just the day before and had not been responding to anything today. She said they felt she was waiting for something, but they didn't know what. I asked if she wanted us to find her brother, but knew that was not what it was. So I spoke up and said, "She is waiting for me." I hadn't thought of that until right then. She wanted to see me one more time to assure herself that the child she never let go of was now safe in God's hands.
For much of the time we've been apart, I was a backslider. Two years before this, I gave my life back to God. Her daughter, Joyce, and the family left the room to give her mother and I some alone time.
She looked so small and weak. Her face was raised to the heavens with her eyes closed. I laid my face close against hers and whispered in her ear that I had arrived as God told her, and "Thank you for your love and prayers that spanned fifty years. They've brought me back to the Lord. You are leaving me in His arms and I will see you again soon."
I felt a need to know that she knew I was there. When I stopped speaking, I felt her whole body react. It's hard to explain how she responded in words. It was as if she suddenly took a deep breath with excitement. She did not open her eyes, but I know she knew I was there. I said then, "You can go home now." That moment brought a peace that helped carry me through the sorrow of our loss.
This wonderful lady was my Sunday School teacher for all of my very young years in church. I can still hear her tell my favorite story of Zaccheus in the tree as if it were yesterday.
God bless the Sunday School teacher who trains up a child in the way of the Lord. Their arms embrace with comfort. Their prayers help keep you from harm. Their love endures for ever and they hand you over into God's arms. Well, that's the way it was with this special teacher. God fulfilled her prayers while she yet lived to know it. It was a close one, but God made it on time, and that is His promise, isn't it?
God bless the prayer warrior who prays for others. Those prayers may be the only thing standing between a soul and damnation. If I were to sum up my relationship with my Sunday School teacher, it would be this: Til death do us part. I was told she died within hours after I left. Her work was done. She fought a good fight, ran a good race, and was now ready to receive her crown of glory.
God made quite an impression on all that were present that day. Listen for the quiet, still, small voice of the Lord who directs all the steps of the righteous man or woman. What a conversation she and I could have had if I had listened sooner.
Author's note: I used no names in this testimony on purpose because God has never been a respecter of persons. We are all merely vessels. We do not draw our wisdom from people, but from the events as they occur; for in them is the power of God.
