Sunday Morning Reflections

Charcoal Portrait by the Late Becky Perkins

I am at that stage in life where most of my anecdotes, stories, and thoughts begin like the lyrics to "American Pie!"  "A long, long time ago; I can still remember...." It was the 1980's, the decade of frizzy-big hair, neon colors and very bad music.  I was young and my life seemed to stretch ahead of me with sparkles and butterflies. I was a stay-at-home, breastfeeding mother, neither of which were really mainstream or even desirable at the time. "When are you going back to work? How long are you going to nurse that baby?" Breastfeeding was basically considered a poor, lower-class choice. Not working was almost a guarantee you would be just that! Ken and I were oblivious to the criticism, often from those we loved. I was practicing social distancing before it was a concept. We only had one car, and my husband worked a lot of overtime at a soft drink manufacturer. In charge of the money, he couldn't come home until the last delivery truck came in and tallied up. My life was very simple at the time. The quiet lifestyle we are living now during the Corona Quarantine often takes me back to those sweet times and the young, hopeful "girl" I was. Later, life would become busy and full of part-time jobs, school and athletic activities with the kids, caring for elderly parents and many other intrusions on this idyllic scene. But, at the time,  we did not even have cable! I listened to Christian radio quite a lot and knitted while the baby played. Even junk mail and advertisements were items to be read in times of boredom. One day I received a packet from a group called, "Jews for Jesus." It was quite legit, and I figured they got my information through another devotional series I received from another ministry. It was quite interesting reading. Most of the content dealt with concern for Jewish people who were trapped behind the Iron Curtain in countries controlled by the U.S.S.R..  One day a card came asking me to commit to daily prayer for these people, and I did. I was meticulous to fulfill my commitment, however, I was a bit unclear on how and what to pray.  So, as crazy as it seemed, I just started asking God to bring the wall down! Now, in hindsight, it doesn't seem so impossible, right? But, at the time, it was incredulous.  I dared not tell anyone I was praying that daily, even my sweet husband. Everyone already thought I was a bit of a nutcase, so I just kept it to myself. After we got cable television, the newcasts about the Cold War seemed to mock my daily prayers. How silly! Well, now you know the "rest of the story," as Paul Harvey used to say. The wall came down. The God who created the universe had heard MY prayers (and many others) and literally intervened in history to change things. (Later, I actually owned a piece of the Berlin Wall that I would stare at with wonder. Mindful of the historic value of this piece of rock, complete with documentation, I gave it to my son-in-law to show his high school Social Studies classes. ) So, you may already be anticipating what I am going to say. Why have we not been going to the throne of Grace boldly with faith and expectation, asking God to intervene and stop this Covid-19 virus?  No, I don't mean a passing lip service to it...I mean come to our Father and ask for a miraculous display of God's power! Do you really, truly believe that He could do it? I believe, Lord! Help thou my unbelief!