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Posts Tagged ‘prayer’

The Wart and the Casket

Tue ,17/01/2012

Laying her 98-year-old mother on the bed, she felt her go limp.  No pulse.  My most-favorite-mother-in-law had passed from my sister-in-law’s arms into the arms of Jesus.  No drama–she passed peacefully into His presence—at home in the cozy apartment her son-in-law had built especially for her.

The first time I met my wife’s very conservative parents, whose father was a pastor, was a bit of a jolt, not for me, but for them!  I looked like, and actually was, a bit of a “hippie,” with my long hair, torn jeans, flannel shirt, hiking boots, and a large bushy red beard.  They must have thought their conservative daughter had gone off her rocker!

After we were married, and over the years, I fell deeply in love with my wife’s parents and wonderful family.  When guys at the lab would talk about how meddling and annoying their mother-in-laws were, I’d brag about how great my mother-in-law was!  My wife’s parents were special.

Dad told me one time about when he and mother were doing missionary work back the 1940s in the wild backwoods of Kentucky.  It was a tough time for them because the main product in them hills was “Moonshine,” bootleg whisky.  The whisky boys were giving Dad a hard time because they were worried that if folks started giving their lives to Jesus, business would go down.

One day Dad drove up the dry old rocky river bed, which was the only road back then, to visit a family.  After the visitation, a group of rough mountain men came out of the woods and surrounded dad and his car.  Dad said he prayed for safety, didn’t say a word to the men, got in his car, drove through the men back down the river bed.  Later he was told by one of the men that they were so angry and on edge, that if Dad would have said anything to them, they would have stoned him to death.

Mother often told me about those days when in the backwoods how whenever they ran out of food, or milk and diapers for the babies, that the Lord would bring those things to their doorstep.  They didn’t have much money, but she said the Lord always took care of them.

One evening while sitting in the kitchen, long after I’d married into the family, Mother told me about losing her sixteen-year-old son.  He was an athlete who played football in high school.  He had a paper route, and was well-loved by the community.  One day he came home from school complaining about getting a stiff neck during typing class.  A few days later he was gone.

Mother told me his death nearly tore her heart out.  She grieved his loss; she grieved profoundly and for a long time.  Holding her hand to her forehead, she tightly closed her eyes and said to me, “It got so bad, that I was having trouble doing my duties at the church, and I really thought I was starting to lose my mind!”  “Then one night during prayer when I felt I was at the end of myself with grief, Jesus seemed to come to me and touch my mind, and took my grief, and I knew everything would be ok.  The next day I was fine and could function normally–Jesus really had taken my burden.  I still missed my son, but everything was ok from then on.”

Much later when Dad was in the hospital, Jesus again came to Mother and gave her a verse that made her realize that the Lord was going to take Dad home.  The next day, he, too, passed into the arms of Jesus.  And just a few days ago, unknown to my wife, the day before her mother passed away, the Lord also gave her a special verse to bring comfort.  Sitting in a restaurant for breakfast on the other side of the world in South East Asia, my wife who decided to read Ephesians during breakfast, was struck with the verse, “The Lord Himself is our peace.”  Throughout the day, she wondered why the Lord had so impressed this verse on her heart.  Jesus had prepared her for her mother’s death just as Jesus had prepared her mother for her dad’s death.  Both experienced peace straight from the heart of God.

Thinking back over the years, I recalled mother being funny in her own way.  She generally didn’t get jokes, couldn’t hold a tune, and in their younger years when dad started teaching her how to drive, on her first lesson she backed straight up into a chicken coop, sending the chickens and feathers flying everywhere, and that was the end of her driving lessons!  But she was awesome in a thousand other ways—in ways that count!

One time sitting at the large old farm table for dinner with my family and my in-laws that lived on a farm nearby I decided to tell a joke that was, well, a bit on the edge.  I figured mother wouldn’t get it, so I told the joke and watched everyone having a good laugh and my brother-in-law was laughing so hard I’d never seen him turn that red!  I was sitting there kind of proud of myself for launching a really funny joke past mother, when I hear her from the head of the table calling my name.  Mother said, “Can you explain that joke to me please?”  Then it was my turn to turn red!!

Another time we were visiting Mother and had brought along our dog Sassy, a miniature Doberman.  My family and I were sitting with Mother at the table for lunch during one of our many Christmas vacation visits.  Before eating, Mother would often remove her retainer from her mouth and put it in a napkin while she ate.  This time after doing that, she unknowingly knocked it to the floor.  One of my kids noticed and called my attention to it—just as we heard Sassy making some strange noises under the table.

When I looked under the table, I saw that Sassy had her paws tightly wrapped around the retainer licking off the yummy remains.  Sassy looked up at me, and I recognized her look and realized Sassy was getting ready to turn Mother’s retainer into a doggy chew!  I dove under the table and retrieved the retainer—gave it back to mother, who promptly popped it back into her mouth!

Mother was also a bit of word maven, and even in her nineties could, according to a tall and very smart friend of ours, “clean his clock,” in the word game Boggle.  That game along with Skip-bo kept her mind agile.  But more important than the games in keeping her mind agile were all the missionaries and pastors she prayed for every day!  She had a prayer manual that listed thousands of retired and current missionaries and pastors from around the world.  It became so worn and full of notes, you could hardly read it!   In 2006 we bought her a new one.

Now, 2012, as I thumb through that “new” one, it is also worn and tattered; I am simply amazed at the number of people she had prayed for including added notes of additional family members or special needs.  Mother was in the full sense of the phrase, a “Prayer Warrior.”  And oh how she prayed for all of her children and grandchildren, and great grandchildren–we will all miss her prayers profoundly!!  And she knew her Bible well—during evening devotions on our visits she would often finish quoting by memory what we had started reading from the Bible.

By now, you’re probably wondering what all this has to do with a wart and a casket.  Well, mother had expressed her wishes that she wanted an open-casket funeral.  A couple years back she had developed a rather unbecoming wart on her nose.   Now, near her death, it had become a very ugly wart.  Not that mother cared much . . .  at 98 she was past being concerned about being fashionable.

On the day of her passing, in the morning during breakfast my sister-in-law was looking at her wart thinking how bad it looked.  At lunchtime, she noticed the wart was gone!  And three hours later, so was mother!  It was as if Jesus came down and performed His own special surgery to prepare her for her open-casket funeral. What a cool final gesture of love from our Lord Jesus to Mother.

Mother will be greatly missed; she will be a tough act to follow, and we will all greatly miss her prayers.  But words cannot express the gratitude we have for the rich spiritual heritage she and Dad have left us.  Mother is now happy in heaven to be with her Jesus who she has been looking forward to seeing since she was a young girl.  And like my other brother-in-law said, “She will be rejoicing in heaven, but she will be walking–No driving, as Dad will see to that!”

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”  –Psalm 116:15

Copyright © 2012 by William D. (Nick) Nichols

Written in memory of my Most-Favorite-Mother-in-Law who went to be with Jesus on January 9, 2012.

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The Parking-Pit in Mexico

Mon ,19/04/2010

The following story happened to my wife and I . . .

That evening I learned that God not only had parted the Red Sea, but He could also part a crowd of people.   Nobody had been run over, and I was safe on the other side.  I was so grateful to the Lord.  I just didn’t understand the shocked look on my wife’s face!!

Our day had started in Mexico City.  My wife and I learned about a small town southwest of the city called Taxco, which was famous for its silver artisans.  Since we would be driving to Oaxaca, with Taxco being somewhat on the way, we decided to stop and do some shopping.

After arriving in this quaint little village situated on the side of a mountain, we discovered Taxco was so crowded with tourists and locals that it was difficult to find a place to park.  Eventually, we found a rather unusual location.  It was a square pit about seventy feet deep with one steep single lane to get in and out of the parking-pit.  Other cars were parked down there, so I cautiously drove our van down.

Our van was packed inside and loaded on top.  My wife and I with our three kids were on a three-month road trip in a twenty-year-old VW camper van.  We had so much luggage on top of the van that back in the States at Niagara Falls, I had managed to get our van sandwiched between the ceiling and floor in a parking garage.  We couldn’t budge until I unloaded some folding chairs off the top.  Being so loaded had me pretty concerned about our brakes giving out as I drove us down the steep drive into the parking-pit.

After I got the van parked and secured, we went shopping.  Taxco was a beautiful town with narrow twisting cobblestone streets and homes with white stucco walls and red tiled roofs.  The old colonial town’s main plaza had multiple silver shops in any direction one looked.  There were people everywhere, and the atmosphere was one of gala-enterprise.  We had a great time!  The locals were very friendly and the silver work was excellent and cheap!  We were enjoying ourselves so much that we stayed a little longer than we should have, and it was beginning to get dark.

Surprisingly, as dusk set in, the activity in the plaza increased.  Even more people began to come out after dinner to enjoy the evening.  It was so hard to leave, but we had business in Oaxaca the following day and had to go.  We worked our way through the crowds in the plaza back to our van.  While walking down the steep drive, I didn’t say anything to my wife, but I began having doubts about our van being able to make it back up out of the parking-pit.

After paying the parking attendant, we all piled into the van, and I started the old engine.  Sometimes it took a few tries, but this time the engine turned right over, coughed, belched some blue smoke and then we started up the steep drive.  About a third of the way up, the strain was too much; the engine died, and we rolled backwards down the drive to where I had started.  This time I gave it more gas and hit the drive faster.  That took us about two-thirds of the way up before the engine conked out.  We again rolled back to start.

I had my wife and kids get out to lighten the load, then I revved up the engine and hit the steep drive going as fast as I could.  The van sounded like it was going to blow.  Just as I made it to the top of the drive, I slammed on my brakes; there were too many people in the way, and I knew I couldn’t drive up onto the level street without hitting someone.  Then the van died, and I rolled back down to where my family was standing.

Now, my wife was looking worried.  Our three young children thought it was great fun watching their Poppy drive up and down, up and down.  I told my wife that she would have to go up on the street and stop the people at the top of the drive so I could get out without running anybody down.  By this time it was dark, and the street lights threw an eerie cast of dancing shadows over us and the pit.  Reluctantly, my wife said she would try to stop the crowd, and when it was clear, she would signal me with a wave of her hand.

I prayed, “Lord, somehow please help me get out of this pit without killing anyone.”  It was a simple prayer from the bottom of my heart; then up went my wife with the kids in tow.  I sat at the bottom of the drive revving my engine and waiting.  It seemed like it was taking her forever–then I saw it, her signal.  I hit the gas.  The engine was straining, but I was flying up that drive like a speeding bullet!  With one big bump, I crested the drive and stopped right in the middle of the level street.

Praise the Lord!  I hadn’t run over anybody!  My wife came running over with an awful look on her face and yelled, “Why did you come up!!??  I didn’t signal you!!!”  Stunned, I said in disbelief, “But I saw you signal me!”  Then I noticed standing behind her was a large crowd of people about twenty feet from the van looking at us.  I turned and looked out the opposite window and saw another large crowd of people about twenty feet from the van also staring at us.  There was a completely empty zone, void of people on both sides of the van.

I realized the Lord had just performed a miracle!!  For Moses, God had parted the waters; for us, He had parted the people!  No one was hurt.  I was profoundly amazed.  My wife was relieved.  And the kids wanted to see Poppy do it again!

“Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the LORD drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.” –Exodus 14:21,22  (NIV)

PS: The above story happened to us in 1987.  This is my wife’s comment after editing the story for this blog post:  “Yep!!! Truly amazing to this very day!!  Some things can ONLY be explained by God.”
Copyright © 2010 by William D (Nick) Nichols

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Faith and My Fear of a Foreign Language – Conclusion

Mon ,22/03/2010

This is the conclusion to, Faith and My Fear of a Foreign Language . . .

Working her way down my row, she reached the person behind me–I was next.  Fear, fright, and flight all kicked in at once, and I jumped up out of my seat and ran to the back door.  “Ni Wei Li, where are you going?” called my professor.  I looked at her, stuck my finger to a tooth and told her I had a dentist appointment!  I lied.  Walking down the hall away from the classroom, I said, “Lord that was terrible; I’m never going back!!!”  And for two weeks I was in turmoil not wanting to go back but struggling with the feeling that that Lord wanted me there.  I went back on a Friday.  The professor had already figured out what had happened.  During that class, the professor comes over and stands beside me with her hand on my shoulder.  “Class, class, I want your attention!”  All the students stopped writing and looked up at the two of us.

“Class, class, I want your attention!”  All the students stopped writing and looked up at the two of us.  “Ni Wei Li here is afraid of what all of you think about his Chinese, so everyone, please be patient with Ni Wei Li.”   I was humiliated and felt stupid!  It was hard enough to come back to a college class after missing two weeks and then she did THAT to me!  In my heart I prayed, “Lord, that does it!  I’m not coming back for sure!!!!! No way, NEVER!!!”  The whole weekend I was in turmoil and again struggled with myself and the feeling that the Lord wanted me there taking Chinese.  I gave in; I was back in class on Monday and for the next few weeks, I had to work my rear off trying to catch up with the rest of the class.

As nothing short of a miracle from the Lord, I got through four quarters of Chinese.  I started debating if I should take a fifth quarter because I began feeling like I would never make it to China as a missionary.  Becoming a bit depressed over this, one day I found myself in a Christian bookstore.  As I was browsing the book racks, I saw a book about a pioneer missionary to China named Jonathan Goforth.  The book was titled, Goforth of China, so I purchased the book and read the story.  I had read a lot about China since I started my Chinese studies, and as far as missionaries went, Hudson Taylor who started the China Inland Mission had been my missionary hero to China.  But there were also things about Goforth’s life I could relate to, and he became my new missionary hero with Hudson Taylor close behind.  Both Goforth and Taylor were contemporaries working in different areas in China back during the late 1800s and early 1900s.

I was inspired by Goforth’s life but was still struggling about taking more Chinese.  Around that time, my wife and I were invited to a wedding for one of her friend’s that was going to be held a few hours from where we lived.  On our arrival, we were told we would be staying overnight with some friends of theirs that were retired missionaries that had served some thirty years in Viet Nam.  The couple welcomed us and gave us an upstairs room for the night.  The wedding would be the next day.

I was sitting on the side of the bed getting ready for bed and got to staring at an old tintype photo on the top of a dresser.  I was thinking to myself, “That old lady looks really familiar.”  Then I started thinking, “She sure looks a lot like the picture I saw of Jonathan Goforth’s wife in his book.”  Over on a table I noticed a really old Bible–except it had Chinese on it!  I jumped up, ran over, grabbed the Bible, and opened the front cover.  Inside, hand written, was the name Jonathan Goforth!  I nearly fell over!  He had lost his first Chinese Bible during the Boxer Rebellion in China when he was attacked by a mob and left for dead.  It’s estimated that around the year 1889, several hundred missionaries and over 32,000 Chinese Christians were killed by the Boxers.  After he survived, a Bible society presented him with a new Chinese Bible, the one I was holding.

That was too much for me!!!!!  I yanked my clothes back on, ran down stairs, and started calling for the old missionaries.  The wife came out of their bedroom and asked if I was ok.  I blurted out, “What’s all that business about Jonathan Goforth upstairs in our room???”  She looked at me smiling and said, “I’m his great-granddaughter.”  That experience did a number on me, and I signed up for the fifth quarter of Chinese.  The following is so typical of God–to go beyond what we expect.  Not long after, a Bible publisher was hosting a banquet in our city, and the country of focus that year was China.  My wife’s uncle who was associated with the Bible publisher knew of our interest in China and had invited us to the banquet.  Sitting down at the banquet table, we said hi to her uncle and to the two men sitting with him.  Then her uncle turned to us and said, “I would like to introduce you to  Hudson Taylor III and Hudson Taylor IV.”   I had to fight back tears.

By the time I had gotten into my sixth quarter of Chinese, we had gone from three classes of thirty students each studying Chinese down to eight of us.  We were considered to be the next round of Chinese translators and every other week an officer from the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) would come in and pass out applications or other promotional literature.  One day my professor, the one who had humiliated me back in my first Chinese class, came to me.  She said, “Ni Wei Li, I want you to know that you have an above average ability to learn Chinese characters, even among the Chinese!”  By the eighth quarter, I was doing an independent study in Chinese, because at that time, I had taken all the Chinese the university offered.

Walking down the hall one day in the East Asian Language Department, I heard someone call my Chinese name.  Turning around, it was my Chinese professor for my advanced studies.  He was the head of the East Asian Language Department and had been responsible for the department receiving several national awards.  He also was an honorary chairman of the Taipei Institute of Linguistics in Taiwan.  He said, “Ni Wei Li, you are one of my “A” students, and if you want to go to the Taipei Institute of Linguistics, I will be happy to write you a letter of recommendation!”  All I could think as we parted was, “I’m humbled Lord!  How far you have brought me–from fearing a foreign language to embracing it!  You did it all because if I had had my way, I would have quit the day I ran out of the classroom.  Thank you, Lord; I now love Chinese characters and would have missed out on so much!!  Thank you, Jesus, for conquering the fear in my heart!  You knew what was best for me, and You knew it from the beginning.  Thank you.”

I will boast only in the LORD; let all who are discouraged take heart.  Come, let us tell of the LORD’s greatness; let us exalt his name together.  I prayed to the LORD, and he answered me, freeing me from all my fears.  Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces. Psalm 34:2-5 (NLT)

Copyright © 2010 by William D. (Nick) Nichols

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