As I woke up this morning, I felt a desire to just turn off all the conflicting messages about this unsettled time in our national history.

            I have deep friendships with people who hold radically opposing views. I know what news I will read by choosing FOX and then finding the same story unrecognizable on CNN. Even our concerned people of faith who are convinced of a global conspiracy are leaving me weary.

            So, in this mental state of not being interested in what anybody else thinks, I asked God directly what He wanted me to know today.

            He said, “Get ready for a new God story”.

            Then He reminded me that some of my favorite stories were birthed at a time and place much like my today. They happened in places I had never been before. They brought me face to face with challenges for which I had no resources. Spaces where fear reared its ugly head and needed to be stomped down by faith.

            But, they all ended with a bolder belief that there is a God, that He knows my name, is not in anyway limited by my fear and loves to see my eyes pop when He does for me what I know could only have been done by Him.

            My stories include a near death plane ride between ridges of the Andes mountains in Bolivia in a fog that reduced visibility to zero. I was sitting in the tail of this small plane crying. The pilot confessed that he knew we were between mountains, but he couldn’t see. Then, suddenly he said,” We are going to be OK. I can see now.”  It was only upon landing that we learned that the missionaries had heard the engine of our plane and watched the fog lift in front of our path as they prayed.  

            I’m reminded of my time scrunched in the back of a pickup truck in Mali, West Africa. The trip had taken longer than we had planned, and we were hungry. We stopped at a remote desert site where two Bedouin brothers were cooking in a large pot over an open fire. Our missionary interpreters asked if there was a place up the road where we could buy food. The two men responded by finding a hubcap, scooping some of their “casserole” on to it for themselves and giving us the rest. The nurse in me said to myself, “You have no idea what this food is, but I did actually have a mental picture of rats, bats and tumbleweed.” My mind went on to remind me that there is no where these men could have washed their hands or prepared the food, so don’t eat it”.

            But, my missionary friend, who knew my aversion to germs, glared at me with her eyes. Her eyes clearly spoke, “Roselyn, you are going to eat this!”.

            I prayed and said, “There is either a God or there isn’t” after which I swallowed the desert combo. As you now know, I lived to tell the story and still stand in awe of the kindness of these strangers and the protection of my God.

            Finally, there is the story of being in the custody of the Police in China. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I would die from heart failure before any decision was made about my case. But, as my interrogation began, I was filled with a boldness that amazed me. I actually enjoyed debating the charges that were filed and when I was asked if I was a Christian, the word “Yes” jumped out of my mouth before I had time to form it. God was there giving me the words to say just as He promised in Luke 12:11.

            Each of these stories were platforms where fear and faith stood in opposition to each other. I cannot say, “Watch me be me” in any of these scenes, but I can say, “Watch God be God” in each of them.

            Now, as I stand ready to be called out to play my part in this production entitled “What’s next for America” I pray I can benefit from what I have seen God do in the past. I am excited that as in each of the earlier stories, I am being given a script that will draw me into deeper intimacy with Jesus.

            Coming Soon: A New God Story!!