What Would You Bring?

Next Tuesday I am going to a brunch where each person has been asked to bring something tangible that represents God's work in her life.

I am not much of a collector and I hold on to very few tangible representations of anything; nevertheless, even I have a few items that would fit the bill. One immediately comes to mind.

There is a flower that has been firmly pressed between the pages of an old Bible of mine for about 15 years. It was given to me one night when I went to a prayer meeting with a houseful of total strangers. I knew only the hostess, who had casually invited me, but she had no idea of why I might be interested in coming to her prayer meeting. I went to the prayer meeting because I was desperate for one thing: a baby.

I had been trying to conceive for over a year, and I was going to ask these strangers to pray for me to get pregnant. Unfortunately, I got there late and everyone was already in small groups praying when I arrived. So I quietly joined a group, listened in to the prayers that were prayed, and wondered if I had missed my chance. An hour later all of the groups had said "Amen" and I was getting up to leave, having not spoken a single word since I entered the house.

As I moved towards the door, a woman I did not know who had been praying in a different group than my own approached me, holding a flower. She said to me, "I don't know you, and I hope this does not sound too strange to you, but when you came in the door, I believe that God told me that you were going to have a son this year." She went on to say that whenever God gave her a prophesy for someone, she gave that person a flower to press in the pages of their Bible to remind them of what God had said. She handed me the flower and walked away.

I was stunned. Speechless. And ran out the door before bursting in to tears. No one had ever prophesied over me before and I really did not know what to think. Of course I wanted to believe it was true, but after a year of disappointment I was afraid to hope.

That was February of 1995. David Graham Williamson, MY SON, was born in November of 1995. Though it is dry as a bone and falling apart, I still have that flower.

What would you bring?

Tweet