Hello Everyone,
I've openly shared in regards to my dad being a staunch right winged Christian and how he doesn't understand completely, getting glimpses, yet still doesn't understand how I can believe the way I do. Oh well, this allows me to overlook some of things he shares with me and see the true intention behind the 'evangelizing'. On that note, here is a wonderful story that relates to following the Inner Voice, the Intuits and one never knows ...
I ask you all to look beyond some of the churchy notations, some of which I edited and find the gift contained within...
InJoy ~
HAIRBRUSH EXPERIENCE OF BETH MOORE AT THE AIRPORT
For those of you who do not know Beth Moore, she is an outstanding Bible
teacher, writer of Bible studies, and is a married mother of two
daughters.
This is one of her experiences:
April 20, 2005, at the Airport in Knoxville , waiting to board the
plane, I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I
was doing.. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord.. I say this
because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God
really working in you.
You could end up doing some things you never would have
done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a
thousand reasons, not the least of which is your ego.
I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight.
Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones,dressed
in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty
pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and
his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his
shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones.
>
The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy, gray
hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His
fingernails were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.
I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face.
As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself
wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting.
Then, I remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport...
an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere?
There I sat; trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being
concerned about a thin slice of humanity served up on a wheelchair
only a few seats from me. All the while, my heart was growing more
and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.
Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern,
and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old
man.
I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall.
I've earned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary
to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may
be embarrassing.
I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my
spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. 'Oh, no, God,
please, no.' I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight
through it into heaven and said, 'Don't make me witness to this man.
Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same
plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of
this gawking audience. Please, Lord!'
There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, 'Please don't
make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane.'
Then I heard it...'I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to
brush his hair.'
The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts
spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No-brainer. I
looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, 'God, as I live and
breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord.
I'm your girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your
life.
What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed?
I am going to witness to this man.'
Again, as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write
this statement across the wall of my mind. 'That is not what I said, Beth. I
don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair.'
I looked up at God and quipped, 'I don't have a hairbrush.. It's in my
suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a
hairbrush?'
God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him
as these thoughts came to me from God's word: 'I will thoroughly furnish
you unto all good works.' (2 Timothy 3:17)
I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.
Even as I retell this story, my pulse quickens and I feel those same
butterflies.
I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as possible,
'Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?'
He looked back at me and said,'What did you say?'
'May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?' To which he responded
in volume ten, 'Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to
have to talk louder than that.'
At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out,
'SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?'
At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only
thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Long Locks.
Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up
at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, 'If you really want to.'
Are you kidding? Of course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem
interested in my personal preference right about then.
He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, 'Yes, sir,
I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don't have a
hairbrush.'
'I have one in my bag,' he responded.
I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands
and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing
what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair.
It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many
things well, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling
knotted hair mothering two little girls. Like I'd done with either Amanda or
Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the
strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.
A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's
hair.
Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those
moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I brushed and I
brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.
I know this sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for
another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I for that
few minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken
my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making
Himself at home for a short while. The emotions were so strong and so
pure that I knew they had to be God's.
His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the
brush back in the bag and went around the chair to face him.
He said, 'You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months.
I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me.
I was sitting here thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride.'
Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when
we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was
one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He
could have known.
It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it.
Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply
ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have
accompanied him on that aircraft. I still had a few minutes, and as I
gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears
streaming down her cheeks.
She said, 'That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do
that? What made you do that?'
I learned something about God that day.
He knows if you're exhausted, you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong
place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge. He
knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning
under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed.
He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need!
I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many
opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way... All because I
didn't want people to think I was strange..
God didn't send me to that old man.
He sent that old man to me.
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