Encouraging words of faith:

God’s High Water Marks

Introduction

I’ve often heard Christians refer to their spiritual father or mother—the person who by words and example led them to Christ. I have no such person. Through deep searching of my soul the Holy Spirit worked in my heart and brought me to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.

            My conversion experience fits my personality perfectly. A self-teacher, who likes to spend quiet time alone learning and growing, God gently tugged at my heart until I gave it to Him.

            In my mind and heart I can instantly go back nearly forty years, and countless miles to valley and mountain experiences. Sometimes I traveled on smooth roads. Sometimes closely snuggled under His wing, sometimes barely in the shadow, sometimes carried in His arms, God and I traveled together the straight, smooth roads and winding, rough paths. The memories of the smooth roads bring me hope. The rocky roads gave me courage. The times God brought me back when I wandered off the meandering path strengthened my faith.

            And still today God gently guides my feet to the footholds in the road knowing I can stumble even when the roads are smooth. Over the years, as clearly as water marks the high water times on a flood wall, God has embe dded markers of love in my heart.  

            I Thessalonians 5:11 says Christians are to encourage and build up one another. That verse sums up the purpose and intent of my words.  

From a Mother’s Heart

Late in the afternoon my three-year-old son would develop a fever. It was low grade, but never-the-less it was a fever and a fever meant something was wrong. Nine months pregnant, I didn’t want to sit in a waiting room filled with sick children. I also didn’t want to stretch our barely making it income to pay for a trip to the doctor. But, my worst fear was bringing a new born home to a sick sibling. I sat by Jeffie’s bed and prayed.

            Young in years and young in the Lord, finding the right words was difficult. Someone had said to talk to God like you talk to a friend. Would He really understand if I didn’t speak King James’ English? Of course he would. I had studied in Sunday school where Moses questioned God and claimed he was not an eloquent speaker. God reminded me of his answer to Moses, “Who made mouths?”

            I knelt by the bed and told God my fears. I asked that He take the fever away. As I prayed an incredible peace washed over me like a refreshing spring rain. The fever was gone. The fever would not come back the next afternoon. God had healed my son. No touch of the mother’s hand was necessary. The fever was gone. I knew it.

            That story stands nicely alone, but the importance of what God did has only been revealed to me recently. Today that child has left the safety of God’s flock and wanders in the world. I know he is not alone. The God who healed his fever will heal his heart. As a parent holds securely the child who tries to run into danger, the Father has hold of his hand.