Remember God’s Faithfulness

Forgetting. It’s something we humans are so good at. Each time I read through the book of Exodus, humanity’s forgetfulness strikes me again: God just barely finishes making a rock gush with water, when the people of Israel want meat. Instead of just asking for God for it, they get ready to stone Moses. Pretty much the whole book is filled with miracles followed by forgetting and whining.

I can scarcely help shaking my head in disbelief as I read the story.

And then I remember my own life and how many, many times God has shown Himself strong on my behalf, only for me turn around the next day and complain about a problem without even thinking to pray about it.

Over and over in the Scriptures God tells His people to remember His might acts, both in history and our own lives.

Since it’s so easy for me to forget, I thought I’d record one of my favorites stories of God answering prayer for me.

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The Sunday after we moved to Alabama for Joshua to start law school, we sat in the cold bleachers of a new church. I tried to pay attention to the sermon, but failed. I was homesick and completely unprepared for Josh to begin the crazy schedule of a law school student.

As I sat there I thought about how much I would love to tutor history or English to a few homeschool students. Not only would it provide a little income, but I love teaching and since I’d left behind seven younger siblings, I desperately wanted the chance to be involved in the lives of other young people.

Nothing’s impossible with God, but this was so unlikely it hardly seemed worth praying about. Aside from a very sweet cashier at Walgreens whose only son was grown, I knew the names of about two people (Joshua’s professors). The school year was getting ready to start, I’m a horrible marketer, and I was sure I was simply too late.

This train of thought wasn’t helping my loneliness, and I tried to pull my attention back to the sermon.

After the sermon ended, Southern hospitality was beautifully displayed as members of the congregation came up and welcomed us.

Then the pastor’s wife walked over.

She was carrying a copy of Spielvogel’s “History of Western Civilization” in her hand and shifted it as she reached out her hand to greet me. After a moment of chit chatting, she said, “At the very last minute the history tutor I had lined up wasn’t able to teach. I’m trying to find a replacement. You wouldn’t happen to be interested in teaching my daughter and her friend, would you?”

I was so surprised it took me a moment to respond. Of course, I said “Yes!”

The weekly meetings we had discussing God’s incredible workings throughout history quickly became a highlight of my week. Over the next four years I got to explore history and literature with them, their siblings, and a few of their friends.

It’s been over five years since that day, but the details are still vivid in my mind. Whenever I remember God’s faithfulness to me (despite my doubting), it makes it easier to trust His power and goodness today.

How has God shown His faithfulness to you?

Linked up at Mama MomentsGrowing HomeEncourage One AnotherWalking RedeemedGrace Simplicity, & Proverbs 31

[Full disclosure: links to products in this post are my referral links.]

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  1. says

    Hi Anna! That was a beautiful example of how much God loves us and wants us to walk in His plan! I’m not getting paid, but I am getting to do what I love: helping my niece set up a pre-school homeschool! I’m having a blast! God has given me the opportunity to serve Him in the capacity that I enjoy! He is so good to me! I hope my niece will have success at this! Thanks for sharing your heart! Blessings from Bama!

  2. says

    I’ve been searching a long time for truth. I was a philosophy major in college—Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Descartes, Kant, Nietzsche—but truth was not to be found in philosophy. I left there and thought I could find truth in black identity. So, I did a program in African Caribbean studies— learned my black history and how we raised the pyramids over the Nile. I discovered that I could not find truth there. I went to seminary—I thought that in the tracks of theology and the original languages of the Bible, I could find truth. There was some truth there, but my soul was not at rest. I began to pastor, and I thought that in the fellowship of the saints I could find truth. I found some, but my soul was still not at rest. I went into counseling and therapy; I went back and got more degrees. Finally, I discovered what my Sunday school teacher had told me: Truth was a person. I did not have to ascend to heaven; I did not have to cross the sea. The truth was nigh unto me; it was in my mouth and in my heart. Truth was a person, and truth’s name is Jesus.

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