My friend Paula said, “God has a way of getting us to the place we’re supposed to be.” The idea struck a chord with me and caused me to reflect on the way in which God has worked in my life.
After my husband died, our house on Vancouver Island, the home I had loved almost ejected me. For some odd reason, I just couldn’t be there, so I made my permanent home in a small trailer house which was our winter home in Yuma. If I was to be a year arounder, I needed a church. My first Sunday here I cruised up and down Avenue A and 8th Avenue at about 8:15, and service at Trinity Methodist started at 8:30. I had been Lutheran all my life, so I had no intention of making that my home, but I accidentally sat behind Marilyn Young. She was so welcoming that I came back and got stuck.
Two years ago my daughter Lynne stayed with me for a couple of months while she was getting dental work done in Algadonas, and it just seemed right that she should stay, but two women in a house need two bathrooms. We just happened onto a place in Saguaro Estates with a bedroom and bath at either end.
But I see now that it was not accidetal, none of this “just so happened.” God was getting me to the place I needed to be. He saw the terrible road that Lynne was going to travel, and he knew that we would have to be in a park with year-rounders who would support us and pray with us throughout the terrible summer, neighbors like Joyce who would encourage their churches like her Community Chriustian Church to keep us in their prayers or like Joan whose church warmLynne’s heart with a beautiful Prayer quilt. He knew that we needed a congregation like those at Trinity Methodist who would understand and treasure who Lynne was and who would wrap their arms around us and keep us strong.
My daughter is gone now, but she knew she was loved, she knew that she had made a difference. Many of those knew her will make the commitment that she made. “I will keep Jesus forever in my heart and not fail to record all my blessings.”
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