[The story was =
related in a missions’ publication]
My mother’s father worked =
as a carpenter. One day, he was building some crates for the =
clothes his church was sending to some orphanage in China. On his =
way home, he reached into his shirt pocket to find his glasses, but they =
were gone. When he mentally replayed his earlier actions, he =
realized what happened; the glasses had slipped out of his pocket =
unnoticed and fallen into one of the crates, which he had nailed =
shut. His brand-new glasses were heading for =
China!
The Great =
Depression was at its height and Grandpa had six children. He had spent =
a whopping $10 for those glasses that very morning. He was upset =
by the thought of having to buy another pair. "It’s not =
fair," he told God as he took the trolly uptown in =
frustration. "I’ve been very faithful in giving of my time =
and money to your work, and now this."
A year later, =
the director of the orphanage was on furlough in the United =
States. He wanted to visit all the churches that supported him in =
China, so he came to speak one Sunday at my grandfather’s small church =
in Chicago. The missionary began by thanking the people for their =
faithfulness in supporting the orphanage. "But most of =
all," he said, "I must thank you for the glasses you sent last =
year. You see, the civil war was raging, and forces had just swept =
through the area, destroying everything, including my glasses. I was =
desperate. Even if I had the money, there was simply no way of =
replacing those glasses. Along with not being able to see well, I =
experienced headaches every day, so my coworkers and I were much in =
prayer about this. Then your crates arrived. When my staff removed =
the covers, they found a pair of glasses lying on =
top.
The missionary =
paused long enough to let his words sink in. Then, still gripped with =
the wonder of it all, he continued: "Folks, when I tried on =
the glasses, it was as though they had been custom-made just for =
me! I want to thank you for being a part of =
that."
The people =
listened, happy for the miraculous glasses. But the missionary surely =
must have confused their church with another, they thought. There =
were no glasses on their list of items to be sent =
overseas.
But sitting =
quietly in the back, with tears streaming down his face, an ordinary =
carpenter realized the Master Carpenter had used him in an extra =
ordinary way.
~~
Dr Bob Griffin =
[email protected] =
www.grif.net =
"Jesus =
Knows Me, This I =
Love!"