She carried a red Christmas bag with my name neatly typed on the label. "This was left on the counter of the common area for you today."
Confused, I reached for the bag. It was HEAVY. She sat it down on the table for me and walked away.
At first I thought someone brought me homemade pickles. Yum! What a fun surprise treat.
It wasn't pickles! "I don't even attend this church on Sundays!" I had the overwhelming emotion of tears (but they did not come).
Wow! I bet there's 20 or 30 dollars in there!
A couple hours later, I had a chance to open the jar, and again be startled. A crisp $20 bill lay just under the lid, atop all that change!
All told, the jar contained $74.85!
Not one scrap of identifying information, nothing even containing handwriting, was to be found.
My 16 year old has given me 15 more cents because he wanted me to have an even $75.
I'm humbled, thankful, overwhelmed, stunned.
I've been wrestling with God this week over my desire to attend Mt. Hermon, specifically not knowing where the finances would come from. I had an area I was really pushing and God kept shutting the door. I still don't know His plan for next April, but this Christmas Jar was an amazing reminder that God sees, hears and cares!
Who has believed our message?
To whom has the Lord revealed his powerful arm?
My servant grew up in the Lord’s presence like a tender green shoot,
like a root in dry ground.
There was nothing beautiful or majestic about his appearance,
nothing to attract us to him.
He was despised and rejected—
a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.
We turned our backs on him and looked the other way.
He was despised, and we did not care.
"Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide,
who through all changes faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly, Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end."