The Moving Finger Writes … or: Surprise! It's Time!

Old King Belshazzar was quaking in his boots when a hand crashed his party and started writing unintelligible somethings on the wall. Someone calmed him down with a, "Hey, you got this, king. You have a dude here in your kingdom who knows how to decipher weird things like dreams." So old Daniel was called (he really was old by the time of this narrative), and, sure enough, with God's help he was able to interpret the unknown words the scary hand had written on the wall.

The meaning of the words? Allow me to paraphrase them: "King, you've been a dirty rotten scoundrel and God is calling you to account! God's taking away your kingdom and giving it to the Medes and Persians!"

Sure enough, that very night Belshazzar met with an untimely demise and lost his kingdom to none other than the Medes and Persians, the very nations God had foretold! Talk about timing! And accuracy! God's prophecy was spot on!

While I'm pretty sure no one reading this has had a kingdom they lost, I am just as sure that most believers have had at least one event in their lives when God's timing knocked their socks off! But, just in case your turn hasn't come yet, let me tell you about a God-timing event that still gives me goose bumps!

The year was 1977. I was working with my great-aunt, Trinie Valdez, on a Christian magazine which, although written in Spanish, boasted a world-wide readership. I still am amazed at the privilege God gave me of working with her for 14 glorious years. Anyway, in 1977 we were living and working in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico. Off and on Auntie would say, "As long as I am editor of Voz en el desierto, I will live in Mexico. I will never live stateside while publishing the magazine."

Never say never! I think God gets a kick out of challenging us with our "never" statements! That year, 1977, God started speaking to Auntie in very strong ways about moving stateside while still continuing her work with the magazine.

The first indication that God wanted her stateside came from the acquisition of an American vehicle. The Mexican vehicle God had blessed Auntie with, for various legal reasons, had to remain in Mexico. Auntie got a totally unexpected call from Fred Wise, an older man who had made mission trips to Mexico before my time with Auntie. He wanted to give her a van! So Auntie and I took a bus to Arkansas where Fred Wise gave Auntie a pink Volkswagen van. It might have been old, think pre-power-steering--but it was of American provenance (maybe not made there but sold there)--and it ran, very, very well!

Why would God give me an American vehicle? Auntie wondered. Then He started speaking to her in other ways about how He was nudging her to move.

"Neenee," she told me (Neenee is my family nickname), "I can see God leading towards a stateside move, but aside from the difficulties of moving from one country to another, there is one thing that really troubles me. Namely, where will we live?"

Then we made the 1 1/2 hour trek to our Mexico City home church. The worship was awesome, as it often was, and, after some singing in the spirit, the congregation stood quietly, basking in the presence of the Lord. Then Brother Gustavo, an elder in the church, came up to Auntie, laid a hand on her forehead, and began to prophesy. His first words? "Do not say 'Where will I live? I will prepare a place for you!'" Auntie had told NO ONE other than myself about this concern that was a source of worry to her. Goose bumps rose up all over my arms as I blinked in shock. I felt just like King Belshazzar, quaking from top to bottom!

I don't remember the rest of the prophesy, but those words were enough confirmation for Auntie to suck it up and start taking actual steps towards moving.

God had been nudging me to continue my higher education. With Auntie moving to Texas I would be able to continue working with her while enrolled in college. It was this enrollment business that had me move to the states a few weeks prior to her own final move.

While I took care of my school business and waited for Auntie, I was blessed to stay with some missionary friends, a precious pair of ladies. One morning, actually on the day we knew Auntie would be getting to the border, the missionaries I was staying with received one of those calls you never want to get--the pastor, the elderly Mr. Smith (I don't know why we always called him "mister" instead of "pastor," but, strange as that seems, it's what everyone did), was asking for their help: his wife had died in her sleep.

We put ourselves in high gear and I accompanied my two missionary friends to the parsonage, which happened to be the second floor located above the mission church's Sunday School rooms. We commiserated with the pastor and kept him company through the necessary details that accompany a death in a home--the doctor coming, the calling of the funeral home, and letting his only son know that his mom had gone on to be with the Lord. Although we know we will all go home with the Lord if He tarries, and the Smiths were not young, death always comes as a shock--even to believers--and has a way of blanketing us with a corresponding hushed solemnity.

That's how we felt as we waited with quiet reverence beside Mr. Smith. In due time the funeral home people came, entered Mrs. Smith's bedroom, and loaded her on a gurney. As they wheeled her covered body out the front door, who should come in but Auntie, with my best friend from Mexico City, Laurita, who had accompanied her on her trip north.

I can still see her, back pressed against the open door, as the funeral home personnel wheeled their charge by her in quiet purposefulness. Auntie's puzzled face said it all. "What happened?" she asked as she looked around at our downturned faces. Being a perceptive, intelligent person, I'm sure the body on the gurney had given her a significant clue that we had converged on the pastor's home because of a death, but she had no idea whose death or how it had come about.

The new widower filled her in. Many years ago, before Auntie went to work in Mexico, she had worked for Mr. Smith at the mission church he pastored on the border. Now he looked at her and said, "I am going to spend some time with Smitty in California." He paused. Smitty was his only son. "Trinie, would you stay in my house and take care of it while I'm gone?"

The words mouthed through the elder in Mexico City blared in my ears. ""Do not say 'Where will I live? I will prepare a place for you!" God had prepared a home for Auntie!

No one but God could orchestrate such exquisite timing--Mrs. Smith passing on to her reward the very day Auntie arrives from Cuernavaca, Mr. Smith deciding to go stay with his son for a season, and him offering Auntie the use of his home while he is gone. "Do not say 'Where will I live? I will prepare a place for you!!'" That, dear friends, is some timing! More accurately put, God's timing!

In last night's devotional I read, "He (God) moves with perfect timing, not slowness."

Let's encourage ourselves in the Lord like David (I Samuel 30:6). If you are waiting on an answer from God (I know we are!) do not fall into the enemy's trap of thinking God is not hearing or that He is not answering. He does hear. He will answer. But His answer will come at the perfect time--not our time, but HIS perfect time!

"Behold, we count them happy which endure," James 5:11 In other words, keep on keeping on! God's answer will come!