Thread Tools Display Modes
Prev Previous Post   Next Post Next

Very Moving Story
Old 09-09-2005, 01:17 PM
motor (deceased) motor (deceased) is offline
Senior Family Member
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: sanford, florida
Age: 92
Posts: 1,325
motor (deceased) is on a distinguished road
Default Very Moving Story

> [6] Does Jesus Care?
> by Beth Moore
> (A little long but well, well worth the read.)
> Knoxville airport all waiting to board planes: I had
> the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I
> was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord.
> I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary
> thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you.
> You could end up doing some things you never would have
> done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for
> a thousand reasons, not the least of which is your
> ego.
> I tried to keep from staring but he was such a strange
> sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and
> bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he
> was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees
> protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked
> like the coat-hanger was still in his shirt. His hands
> looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The
> strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy
> grey hair hung well over his shoulders and down part
> of his back. His fingernails were long. Clean, but
> strangely out of place on an old man.
> I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could,
> discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what
> his story might have been, I found myself wondering if
> I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I
> remembered reading somewhere that he was dead. So this
> man in the airport ... an impersonator maybe? Was a
> camera on us somewhere?
> There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep
> from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity
> served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All
> the while my heart was growing more and more
> overwhelmed with a feeling for him. Let's admit it.
> Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true
> concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion
> for this bizarre-looking old man.
> I had walked with God long enough to see the
> handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I
> begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to
> my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to
> happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately
> began to resist because I could feel God working on my
> spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. "Oh
> no, God please no." I looked up at the ceiling as if I
> could stare straight through it into heaven and said,
> "Don't make me
> witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please.
> I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't
> make me get up here and witness to this man in front
> of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!"
> There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His
> Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man.
> Not now. I'll do it on the plane." Then I heard it, "I
> don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush
> his hair."
> The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my
> throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness
> to the man or brush his hair? No-brainer. I looked
> straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I
> live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to
> witness to this man.
> "I'm on this, Lord. I'm your girl!" You've never seen
> a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What
> difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is
> not redeemed? I am on him. I am going to witness to
> this man."
> Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word,
> God seemed to write this statement across the wall of
> my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want
> you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his
> hair."
> I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a
> hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane. How am I
> supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?"
> God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began
> to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from
> God's word: "I will thoroughly finish you unto all
> good works" (2 Tim 3:7). I stumbled over to the
> wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I
> retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those
> same butterflies.
> I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as
> demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of
> brushing your hair?"
> He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?"
> "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"
> To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if
> you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to
> talk louder than that."
> At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out,
> At which point every eye in the place darted right at
> me. I was the only thing in the room looking more
> peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks. Face crimson and
> forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look
> up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If
> you really want to."
> Are you kidding? OF course I didn't want to. But God
> didn't seem interested in my personal preference right
> about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter
> the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have
> one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush."
> "I have one in my bag," he responded.
> I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I
> got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's
> old carry-on, hardly believing what I was doing. I
> stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It
> was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I
> don't do many things well, but I must admit I've had
> notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering
> two little girls. Like I'd done with either Amanda or
> Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the
> very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my
> time not to pull.
> A miraculous thing happened to me as I started
> brushing that old man's hair.... Everybody else in the
> room disappeared. There was no one alive for those
> moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I
> brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of
> that hair. I know this sounds so strange but I've
> never felt that kind of love for another soul in my
> entire life. I believe with all my heart, I--for that
> few minutes--felt a portion of the very love of God.
> That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like
> someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a
> short while. The emotions were so strong and so pure
> that I knew they had to be God's.
> His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an
> infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went
> around the chair to face him. I got back down on my
> knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do
> you know my Jesus?"
> He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures.
> He explained, "I've known Him since I married my
> bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the
> Savior."
> He said "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my
> bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and
> she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here
> thinking to myself, 'What a mess I must be for my
> bride.'"
> Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a
> divine moment when we're completely unaware of the
> significance. This, on the other hand, was one of
> those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened
> in details only He could have known. It was a God
> moment, and I'll never forget it. Our time came to
> board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply
> ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so
> proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft.
> I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things
> to board, the airline hostess returned from the
> corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said,
> "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did
> you do that? What made you do that?"
> I said "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest
> thing!" And we got to share.
> I learned something about God that day. He knows if
> you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving
> in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you
> feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're
> hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick
> or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or, He knows
> if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an
> individual. Tell Him your need!
> I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat,
> wondering how many opportunities just like that one
> had I missed along the way ... all because I didn't
> want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me
> to that old man. He sent that old man to me.
> John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling
> among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One
> and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and
> truth."
> Beth Moore is a well-known women's Bible teacher based
> in Houston, Texas. She has written several books and
> does videos of Bible teaching from around the world.
> -- Submitted by Joy Innes who has heard Beth
> tell her story in person
Just an ole sinner saved by grace
Reply With Quote

Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
Thread Tools
Display Modes

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Forum Jump

Similar Threads
Thread Thread Starter Forum Replies Last Post
A-square Moving Paul Hoskins THE CAMPFIRE 0 04-23-2007 07:51 AM
new biker gang moving in Alboy SEND IN THE CLOWNS! 2 04-03-2007 06:04 AM
Look like I'm moving folks.... Gmoney THE CAMPFIRE 12 03-30-2007 11:56 AM
Moving English THE CAMPFIRE 11 09-03-2005 11:40 AM
Moving Camp Skip ELK HUNTING 8 12-10-2004 01:50 PM

All times are GMT -5. The time now is 03:05 AM.

vBulletin skin developed by: eXtremepixels
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.5
Copyright ©2000 - 2021, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.