One Miracle After Another

A special person gave me this book as a piece of encouragement, as I've been looking to the future and wondering what God wants me to do with my life. Well, I just finished it, and it was phenomenal. The writing is good--not superb, but good--but the stories are amazing! If you want to be reminded that God still works miracles today, read this book. If you want your faith in God and surrender to His will to escalate, read this book. Here's a snippet from pages 105-7 to whet your appetite:

"When we pray we need to trust God with the outcome. We need to allow Him to work as He sees best. We dare not put self at the center of our requests. We should always put God first and let Him decide what is best for us."

Like a flash he suddenly could see. He had been trying to convince God to answer his prayers his way instead of accepting God's will for his life. Realizing the selfishness of his past prayers, he began to pour out his heart again.

"Lord, I'm willing to give up school, my future, and my degree. I don't care anymore. You just work in the way that will bring honor to Your name. I'm choosing Your honor above my wants and desires."

The moment he surrendered his will to God, the peace he had been seeking returned. No longer feeling anxious about the outcome of his education, he fell fast asleep.

The next day as he arrived at the university he was greeted by the secretary. "Have you decided to attend classes this Saturday?" she inquired.

"No, I won't be here," Pavel replied calmly. . . .

In disbelief she said, "You have really lost your mind. I admire your courage and determination, but there is no God. What God can save you from a Communist regime? I'm sorry, but there is no one who can save you now" . . . .

The next morning Pavel began his walk to school knowing that it might be his last. Now he was more curious to see what God would do than fearful of the harsh reality of being expelled forever . . . . The moment the secretary spotted him coming up the sidewalk she hurried to meet him. He had never seen her composure so shaken. Her ashen face gave her the appearance of being more dead than alive. Something was definitely wrong.

"Pavel, do you know anyone in the government?" she blurted out.

"No, I don't. Why do you ask?"

Without answering, she continued, "Do you know anyone in the Central Committee?"

"No."
"Then do you know Ceausescu?"

"No, of course not. How would I know the president?"

"Are you positive you are being honest with me?" she asked earnestly.

"Yes, I am being totally honest. Why do you think I would know anyone in the government?"
Shaking her head in disbelief, she whispered more to herself than to Pavel, "Then there is a God! For 21 years I have worked at this university. Never have I seen the government take an action like this!" She explained: "This morning the university received a mandate from the government with the president's signature canceling all Saturday classes for the entire country, effective today. . . If this law would have come on Monday rather than today, you would have been expelled from school for the rest of your life."

Chenxi and the Foreigner

A lake sped past my window and I looked up quickly to see the tail end of it disappear from view. I was torn. Finish my book or stare out the window at the gorgeous Newfoundland wilderness racing past the shuttle? I kept my eyes up for a few more minutes reveling in the stubby, wind-shaped evergreens, rocky hillsides and glistening waters painting ever-changing pictures through the glass. But soon my head dropped again to the book I held open in my lap, "Chenxi and the Foreigner" by Sally Rippin. I wasn't thoroughly impressed with the book's premise or language, but wanted to finish it before starting a new one. Just a few pages later, when I came across a passage that fully captivated my attention, I was grateful that I hadn't discarded the book earlier.

In the following paragraphs the main character, Anna, a teenager visiting China for a month, is talking to a fellow artist, Chenxi, from her fine arts college in Shanghai. I've taken out the extra words as much as possible, so just the essence of her longing remains.

"I think an artist's responsibility is to show a different world to the viewer. No, not a different world, the same world, but a different way of looking at it. It's an artist's responsibility, and I'm talking about writers and musicians too, to take the smaller paths that come off the main road. To go down them and to bring back what they find for those people who never dare to go themselves. Or never have the chance."

Anna goes on to voice one of my own deepest desires, although hers is for painting whereas mine is for writing.

"You know, if I painted one painting that changed the life of one person, affecting them deeply enough to make them see something in a completely different way – even if only one person – I feel like I would have achieved something."

I read those words over and over again for the next fifteen minutes and then put my book away to gaze out the window and think them over for the rest of the trip from St. John's to Grand Bank, NL.