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This is an old testimony of mine. Just wanted to post something different.
This is an true story and happened when I was a child. God taught me a valuable lesson at that time and I DO NOT steal now. You could place me in a room with a million dollars and I wouldn't touch it.
I was thirteen years old and living in a home with a father who was an abusive alcoholic. My mother approached me and said that we wouldn't have Christmas again this year that dad had drank the money. I was the oldest. I got it into my head that we WOULD have christmas and that I would go with my friends to the mall and steal it.
I got gifts for my two brothers, my sister, my dad, two for my mom, a gift for me and a box of ornaments for the tree. It was the ornament box under my coat that the cameras at J.C. Penny's picked up. The cops got me and my friend when we got off the elevator. They took us separately for questioning.
The cop made me unload my stuff and he would ask, "who is this for? And this? And two for your mother? And what did you get yourself--I showed him the earrings. Why the ornaments--ours are broken."
I never lied to him about anything. He was rough and asked for my phone number. I told him we didn' have a phone, so he wanted to know where I lived and I told him. He told me to go home and confess to my dad what I had done and that he would show up at my house to make sure that I had.
I went home and confessed, I thought dad would kill me but I think it hurt him that his addiction caused the rash behavior and I didn't get punished.
The cop never showed up. Instead the Salvation Army showed up with gifts for us kids, food for the table and cash for mom and dad.
It took me YEARS to realize that the cop was the one who HAD to have sent the Salvation Army and that God was with the cop. He was SO ROUGH that it didn't occur to me until I grew up. Jesus works in wonderful ways and I've NEVER stolen another thing.
Yeshua Bless You
This is an old testimony of mine. Just wanted to post something different.
This is an true story and happened when I was a child. God taught me a valuable lesson at that time and I DO NOT steal now. You could place me in a room with a million dollars and I wouldn't touch it.
I was thirteen years old and living in a home with a father who was an abusive alcoholic. My mother approached me and said that we wouldn't have Christmas again this year that dad had drank the money. I was the oldest. I got it into my head that we WOULD have christmas and that I would go with my friends to the mall and steal it.
I got gifts for my two brothers, my sister, my dad, two for my mom, a gift for me and a box of ornaments for the tree. It was the ornament box under my coat that the cameras at J.C. Penny's picked up. The cops got me and my friend when we got off the elevator. They took us separately for questioning.
The cop made me unload my stuff and he would ask, "who is this for? And this? And two for your mother? And what did you get yourself--I showed him the earrings. Why the ornaments--ours are broken."
I never lied to him about anything. He was rough and asked for my phone number. I told him we didn' have a phone, so he wanted to know where I lived and I told him. He told me to go home and confess to my dad what I had done and that he would show up at my house to make sure that I had.
I went home and confessed, I thought dad would kill me but I think it hurt him that his addiction caused the rash behavior and I didn't get punished.
The cop never showed up. Instead the Salvation Army showed up with gifts for us kids, food for the table and cash for mom and dad.
It took me YEARS to realize that the cop was the one who HAD to have sent the Salvation Army and that God was with the cop. He was SO ROUGH that it didn't occur to me until I grew up. Jesus works in wonderful ways and I've NEVER stolen another thing.
Yeshua Bless You
For a long time, I was only angry at the cop because he didn't show up and I had confessed to an abusive alcoholic---dangerous at best. The anger had blinded me to what really happened---The cop and God were my friends.
I loved your testimony, Sheila! Here's my testimony about the power of prayer:
I learned at a very young age that my Father in Heaven loves me, knows me personally, listens when I talk to Him, and answers me. I remember so clearly the first time I really came to know this, even though I was probably only about five years old at the time.
I was at home alone with my mother on one of those days when there was "nothing to do." Picking up what we called simply "the bell," I began to try to entertain myself. The bell was one of those little portable timers that you could set for anywhere up to an hour by turning the dial on the front to a number between 1 and 60. As the minutes passed, you could hear the tick, tick, tick as the little arrow on the dial moved slowly counterclockwise back towards the top of the timer. When it reached the number zero, a crystal clear "ding!" would sound. Mother used it every day when when she was cooking.
The bell was a lot of fun to play with particularly for a child who hadn't ever even seen a TV, much less played a video game! Holding the bell in one hand, I would turn the dial just past the 5-minute marker with the other hand, and then immediately back to the 0-minutes marker at the top. "Ding!" I loved the sound it made. Over and over again I repeated the action: Wind to the right, wind to the left. Ding! Wind to the right, wind to the left. Ding!
"Kathryn, the bell is not a toy and it's not made to be played with like that. You need to stop before you break it," my mother warned.
"I'm not going to break it," I answered knowingly. "Watch!" Wind to the right, wind to the left. Ding! Wind to the right, wind to the left. Ding! Every time I heard the ding, it confirmed in my mind that I knew that bell far better than my mother did. After a half a dozen or so "dings," I suddenly heard instead a dull click. The bell had stopped working. I was surprised and a little taken back. My mother really had known what she was talking about!
My mother took the bell from me and tried it a few times herself. She didn't get a "ding!" either, though, just a dull click. The bell was, in fact, broken and it was my fault.
"See?" she said. "What did I tell you? You didn't listen to me and now it's broken. We're going to have to buy a new one."
I felt terrible that I'd broken the bell, but only for an instant. Suddenly, my little eyes lit up. "I know!" I said. "We can pray about it. We can ask Heavenly Father to fix it!" I could see the doubt in my mother's eyes. She didn't know what to do. She'd taught me to pray whenever I needed my Heavenly Father's help, but surely He wasn't going to step in and fix a mechanical device that had clearly stopped working. And when He didn't, I'd be crushed. She didn't want that.
"Don't worry about it," she said, finally. "I'm just not sure that's the thing to do." Well, in spite of the fact that she'd been right in warning me that the bell would break if I kept playing with it, I knew she was wrong about telling me not to pray about it. I was insistent. Stubbornly I marched off into my bedroom, where I knelt down at the side of my bed. I began my prayer. I told my Heavenly Father that I was sorry I'd disobeyed my mother and had broken the bell, but now I needed His help. I needed Him to fix it. I closed my prayer and hurried back to the other room.
"Okay," I announced with all the confidence in the world. "Try it now." Hesitantly, my mother turned the dial to the right and then back to the left. Suddenly, to her surprise (but not really to mine), we both heard a loud, clear, beautiful "ding!"
I learned something that day that I have never forgotten. God hears and answers our prayers. I have often thought, in greater depth than I did that day so long ago, about what that experience really taught me. God fixed the bell. I am 100% convinced of that. At the same time, when my stapler broke a couple of weeks ago, it didn't even occur to me to ask God to fix it. I guess that's because I don't think He would have done so. Does that mean my faith is weaker now than it was when I was five years old? Does it mean that God loves me less now that I am an adult than when I was a child? It doesn't mean either of those things. I have come to realize that while God will oftentimes give me what I want, He will ALWAYS give me what I need. As a five-year-old, I needed to know that He was listening to me when I prayed and would not ignore my request for help. I know that now. I am convinced that God knew how critical it was that He fix that bell, and that this one experience would teach me a lesson that I'd never forget.
He always hears the prayers of a child because they have no doubt. I wanted a kitten as a child, they were giving them away at school. My parents gave a definite NO. I prayed that night, the next morning my parents said that I could have a kitten if their was a male in the litter. One male---I had Tiger for years. Some would say that they just changed their mind. It wasn't the only time that He answered my prayers. I had a friend who was an artist, her horses were poetry in motion. I prayed like crazy that He take all singing ability away from me and just double up on artistic talent (child's prayer) I have taught art classes and am known as an animal and portrait painter among my family and friends--not well known, but I can paint and draw.
Your story is great. Thanks for sharing.
Yeshua Bless You
The cop never showed up. Instead the Salvation Army showed up with gifts for us kids, food for the table and cash for mom and dad.
It took me YEARS to realize that the cop was the one who HAD to have sent the Salvation Army and that God was with the cop. He was SO ROUGH that it didn't occur to me until I grew up. Jesus works in wonderful ways and I've NEVER stolen another thing.
Yeshua Bless You
It wasn't Jesus working his wondrous ways...it was a very kind and compassionate (plain ole) man, and if his name was God, then yes, he taught you a valuable lesson..It's the cop deserves the praise and thanks.
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