God's Extravagant Grace, part 2

These stories are not in chronological order, but it's obvious by now that my blog jumps around as my musings take me. Right now I am in the ancient past, laying the groundwork for understanding the journey of faith I've been on this past quarter of a century. If you need a reference point, this story happened a month or so before the church service with the necklace.

In the days after the divorce was finalized, undoubtedly the lowest period of my entire life, Jesus was closer to me than any friend on earth. I was living at home again, working for my dad, and crying out to God to please show me the next step for my life. Still sensing a call into foreign missions, I was devastated to learn how many missions organizations would never accept my application because of the scarlet D I shamefully wore.

One day an older friend from work came into the office and announced that God had laid it on her heart to offer me free room and board for as long as I needed it. This would prove to be a truly divine provision and confirmation of His leading, but at the time all I did was joke about it.

"That sounds okay, Donna, but why would I want to live in Duncanville?" Further back in the sanctification process, I confess I was a bit of a north Dallas snob. (Ha -- was I ever cured of that!)

My sole image of Duncanville was reduced to one memory of a bus load of hicks hanging out the windows yelling in Gomer Pyle voices,

"We're from Duncanville, couldn't be prouder, if you cannot hear us, we'll yell a little louder!" 

I vowed then and there that if I ever lived in Duncanville, I would never announce it from a school bus window!

That weekend, the strategic location of Donna's condominium became clear. My childhood friend, Tim, knowing what a difficult time I was going through, invited me to make a foursome for dinner with him, his brother Greg, and his friend Jill.

Jill spent the evening answering my incessant questions about her childhood growing up in Ecuador. My heart was thrilled with stories about Wycliffe Bible Translators. Something stirred deeply in my soul, and I knew beyond reason or explanation that this was the next God-given step for my life. Jill told me about the need for graduate school in linguistics. Great! I am naturally good at word games and grammar. It sounded like a perfect fit. Besides, I loved the possibility of needing to move far away to study and start a fresh chapter in my life. "Where is this school?" I asked her.

Imagine my shriek of hysterical delight as she answered innocently, "Duncanville." The entire restaurant knew that something great had happened.

If I had ever doubted my ability to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit, nevermore. He answered my prayer and spoke loud and clear. He is faithful, awesome, generous, loving, merciful, caring, forgiving, and oh, so worthy of praise! This was another exercise in my faith-training that strengthened my confidence in his willingness and ability to provide for my needs and to guide my every step.

Disclaimer: I repent of anything I used to say or think about Duncanville. It is not a hick town by any means or definition. It would ruin the story to leave that part out, so I included it. No offense intended toward any residents of Duncanville.