On a special day once in a while the windows of heaven open, and God speaks such a clear and precise word that the listener is filled with awe. I’ve been His child for so many years that I should be accustomed to the wonderful workings of the carpenter from Nazareth. Still… as much as I hate to admit it, I sometimes get wrapped up in my life and forget the marvelous power of the one who calms the seas.

One of these days was Sunday past. Although the Lord speaks to people in many ways, this day He spoke a special word through the pastor of the church I attend. As I rushed to take my usual place near the front, my heart weighed heavy within my chest. I couldn’t help thinking about the way I had pushed my quiet moments with the Master to the side during my hurried pace of the last few weeks.

Many mornings of late my mind swirled with a thousand and one things on my to-do list. “I’d better make sure all the supplies are laid out. I need to run to Home Depot before they need more paint,” I thought. The added stress and worry of remodeling a house and trying to keep costs down should have made me realize that now more than ever I needed to spend quiet moments with the Lord. But some of the workmen had been moving at a snail’s pace to keep the clock ticking, and I felt the need to hurry out the door each morning to oversee their progress.

In the back of my mind lingered several writing projects with deadlines looming, causing my frustration to mount even more. Undoubtedly, this recipe of finding myself too busy to read my Bible and pray spelled disaster. As is prone to happen when my priorities need adjusting, the weakest link started to give way. My mouth started to take charge of my brain, and things I would have left unsaid when guided by my Savior just seemed to slip right out when I’m wasn’t looking.

Unkind words that I couldn’t take back swirled in my brain as I entered the sanctuary. “How can I expect the one who hung the stars to bother with me when I can’t even behave correctly? How could He use me? We even slipped in late and missed the praise service,” I thought.

“Oh well. Maybe next week when I get back on the right track I’ll be able to feel His presence and hear His voice.” I resigned myself to sitting through the service and going through the motions. But God had another plan; the pastor opened his mouth, and the words that flowed out were like honey filling the empty, dry places in my heart. My spirit drank in each one. I savored every morsel, writing them down in my little pink leather-bound journal to meditate on during the week.

Like a kind and loving earthly father, my heavenly father spoke just the right words to correct my thinking and encourage me to keep on fighting the good fight. That’s why I serve Him. His love and grace are greater than my sin.

Jan Penton Miller can be reached at lilsisjan@yahoo.com.