Do not be afraid - God hears your pain

I went to the post office to get a money order to mail, along with a letter to Zach, barely making it through the door before it shut at 2:00, I was the last person in the long line. I couldn't help but notice that the post-people on duty were both likely immigrants -- an Asian woman and a dark-skinned man who could have been Muslim or Indian. I wondered how they felt today, with the uproar about immigrants.

From my Facebook Friend, Fellow Early Childhood Specialist, and Writer:

I just shared this on my private page for those who "love troubled souls." But I wanted to share it here as well because it is too good not to share with everyone.

Do I ever have a story for you!

Yesterday was one of the hardest. I began to identify with Mary who suffered along with Jesus at the cross. Though Zach is a far cry from Jesus, it does seem to be mothers who must be strongest and refuse to turn away from their child's agony. Heartbreaking.

When I stepped up to the counter, the dark-skinned man spoke with an accent that was obviously from India. He asked how I was, twice, and I gave a polite reply and asked how he was doing. He grinned from ear to ear, pointed to the ceiling and said, "As long as I have such a blessed relationship to Him, nothing else matters. I am happy!" I got a tear in my eye and told him that this was a blessing to hear, that I was getting a money order to send to my son who was incarcerated just two weeks ago.

And that is when business stopped, and we had church.

The man turned over my receipt and wrote, "Be still and know that I am God."* And then, he wrote "Psalm 41" -- and said I must read this. Then he said, "Wait, no. Did you go to school in this country?" And I said yes. And he said, "Then you can probably read the whole psalm quickly right now." He pulled it up on his iPhone. (Keep in mind he is a postman behind the counter after an incredibly busy day, and I am just a customer.) And so I did, and I got teary-eyed and thanked him. He assured me all would be well.

We finished up, and I went to the lobby to fill out the rest of the address, wiping at tears. And then I heard a disembodied voice coming out of the ceiling or air vent or somewhere say, "Please do not cry, Lady. Everything will be okay."

I looked up and joked, "God, is that you?" Then the Post Office Prophet stepped out from behind a door and said, "I also want to tell you to read Psalm 121. No wait, I will recite it for you." And so with hands outstretched palms up toward the ceiling he began,

" I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth...."

Then he lifted up his hand for a high five and left me with the words, "You must tell you son to just get in the boat and let God guide him the right direction. And everything will be okay."

I'm a puddle of tears by this point, but manage to say, "My son was a commercial fisherman. The boat picture will resonate with him."

I don't know about you, but my experience at the post office (ours is crazy busy and always long lines) doesn't generally come with a psalm, a sermon, and a blessing. I knew that I knew that I knew that I knew..... God was using his megaphone through this happy, willing vessel -- to speak personal encouragement to my heart.

*"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

To my friend:

God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear Psalm 46:1-2

Jesus Draw Me

 

KeithandKristyn Getty