Snake grace

A friend sent this a few weeks ago. I've thought of it often.

"At a Mental Health and Missions conference, I met a dignified, tiny, elderly lady with snow white hair who had been a missionary in India for years. She looked like someone who should have been having tea on the terrace with a linen table cloth and bone china cups. When I met her, she was teaching missions at Moody Bible Institute. One day in one of her classes, she talked about stepping outside on to the terrace of her home in India where she discovered a cobra, coiled and ready to strike. Her class gasped. Somehow this elegant little lady didn't collocate with dealing with a cobra face-to-face. One coed asked, 'What did you do? Where did you find the courage to deal with it?' The lady replied, 'God doesn't give you "snake grace" until you need it.'" Our friend closed her email with this prayer: "Heavenly Father, please give Carol and Chuck the grace they need for today. And help them be confident that you'll give them the grace they need for tomorrow, tomorrow."

Our heavenly Father always does!

The "funny head" didn't last, and yesterday was a good day.

A bizarre misunderstanding occurred at the mission on Monday. Chuck told someone on his way out that he was going to take me to the doctor. Someone else saw him sprinting to his car. He only wanted to be sure to get to the appointment on time, but they drew the conclusion that it was an emergency. The email that went out asking for prayer sounded dire indeed. A friend told me on Tuesday, "I was so afraid I'd come to work today and learn that you had died, and I hadn't had time to say a proper goodbye." The main lesson from all that was how deeply we are loved; people really do care and pray. The other lesson is "Don't assume the worst." There is no indication that I'm dying any time soon. We're leaving early Saturday for our lake house in Indiana, where you'll recall we don't have a phone line. We'll be gone until after Easter, and many days I won't be able to post a blog. We rely so much on your prayers that if a crisis occurs, you can be sure we'll find a way to let you know. Otherwise, we'll be enjoying our family--16 of us once Lisa arrives on Easter Saturday.

During this final week of Lent, I'll be reading the closing chapters of the Gospels, seeking a fresh appreciation of the deep love of Christ that drew Him--step by step, day by day--to the cross. Just because we know ahead of time how it all turns out does not minimize the great horror of His suffering, the high cost of our salvation. How loved we are!

Blessings,
Carol