Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The weeks and months that followed were incredible. I tried to believe it was just because India was in my head. Coincidences, I told myself. Like attending an International festival with the flag of India right in front of us as we walked up. Or like the conversation I was having with some girls when I looked up to see the flag of India hanging above us. Coincidences, you know.

But the “coincidences” turned into more.

I got a picture message at work one day of a man holding a little child. The child? Indian, it seemed. The man? The number? No clue, and he wouldn’t talk to me when I asked.

While reading my devotions, in Leviticus of all places, I distinctly thought I saw the word India. Now, I’m losing it, I thought. But India hadn’t even been on my mind that day. Then, again, it was as if India was written in the paragraph. But when I searched back through the letters, no India.

This was getting ridiculous. So I dismissed it.

Then, that night, something happened. Something more than thinking, more than coincidence and more than anything I could dismiss away.

{Up until this point you have been reading so excitedly.
These next words, I would think, might cause you
to question my sanity or at least my level of drama. But
remember with me that I serve the Creator of the Universe.
He’s incredible at writing stories.}

That night I picked up a book I was anxious to read: Fields of the Fatherless by Tom Davis. Between laundry and conversations, I soaked in the pages. It was about Russia and one man and life-change because of orphans.

I’d only made it two paragraphs in. The intro beckoned me to read more. But I wouldn’t be able to that night because something would stop me in my speed-reading tracks.

I had just read how the trip to Russia would forever change his life. Suddenly, in the clearest split second of my life, time stood still as five letters came up off of the page. Everything behind them blurred.

I n d i a

As quickly as they came, they went back into their assigned places. No, the word India wasn’t written on the page. God wrote it that night for me, and I gasped out loud when He did it. All I could manage was to stutter around to explain to Jason. How does one explain something so supernatural? Something only your eyes beheld? Something you know no one else could really believe unless they saw it themselves?

{To be concluded...or begun...tomorrow...}


The Anderson Family said...

This blog entry gives me chills as I read it. Our God is amazing!

Amanda said...

Ya know, I've heard this story, but it makes me more excited every time I hear it! Looking forward to tomorrow's entry!!!