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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required God speaks to me often, I do what he asks If I know He is asking, I’m up for the task; no matter the reason, a job big or small I will always respond when I hear the call. One day, driving to work and I started to pray ‘Lord, if you still love me, please use me today.’ So I watched and I waited for God to come through, but now driving back home, I’d found nothing to do. At a junction I stopped and I heard my Lord say His familiar voice and as clear as day: ‘Turn right into this street, the blue door - twenty three; There’s a lady in there, who I want you to see.’ Without thinking, I followed His leading until I was stood at the door, my eyes starting to fill, but as I rang the bell, I was more than aware that I had not a clue what I was doing there. The fear gripped my heart as the door opened wide an old man said ‘You’re here!’ and he led me inside. ‘I’m here to help someone’ I tried to stay calm as he drew me along with his hand on my arm. ‘Just in there, her name’s Mags – and she’s seventy five, It’s that horrible cancer, she’s barely alive; but she will not give up till she’s spoken with you, In you go – I believe that you know what to do. His hand at my back, I was pushed in the room and was met with a terrible, blackening gloom; In the darkness I saw on the bed - piles of rags? But I choked when I focused my eyes - it was Mags. I pulled out my Bible and sat by her side and as I held her hand her eyes opened up wide. ‘Will you read me a Psalm? Can it be 23?’ ‘Good choice - you’ll get John chapter 14 for free.’ My tears stained the pages as I read the word And she gripped my hand tight as our spirits were stirred When I asked if she’d thought about Heaven today ‘Never once in my life – but you’ve showed me the way.’ It was there, in the gloom, that she prayed her first prayer and then folded my hand in the curls of her hair. ‘The nails didn’t keep Him there - I was the one.’ as her pain now gave way to a smile - she was gone. So I sat and I cried, Bible closed on my knee when another voice cried ‘Can I get you some tea?’ By the door, the old man wiped a tear from his eye as he watched his beloved bid her last goodbye. I could read in his face the last weeks had been rough ‘You’ll be going home now, I’ve delayed you enough.’ ‘Just one question’ I asked, as we stood in the hall; ‘How on earth did you know I was going to call?’ Well, I did call the Vicar last week, ‘Was he free?’ he would try to make some time next week, after three. ‘But if I cannot come, don’t you worry’ he said, ‘I’ll be sure to send someone else in my stead.’ By now both our faces with tears were stained and we gasped at the miracle God had ordained. My call had been heard; the Lord knew I was free and the Vicar was busy – so Father sent me.
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