A little cheese with my whine

Today Tim and I went to "The Green" where we sat by "The Gazebo" and took out a half an hour for the National Day of Prayer. Having just returned from Berlin, where the city government is busy restoring our statue to Baal, even though the folks passing their time as permanently unemployed sitting around it could care less, I appreciate public prayer. (With 20% unemployment, you'd rather have a job than a bull fountain dedicated to fertility.) Back to prayer. Of course most of my friends in Berlin don't have a clue about prayer. I realized the folly of saying "I'm praying for you" when my girlfriend compared my praying she would get a job with her new colleague going into the garden and communicating with a tree and collecting little stones to line up in a certain way. While we were in Berlin, another friend reminded me that I had prayed for her to have a baby 8 years ago. Amazing that something I did 8 years ago still sticks, even though the baby never happened.

Today I am praying earnestly for wisdom for ministry decisions in Berlin (and not just that each of you here will tithe to our ministry when your rich uncle leaves you his millions--that would be nice, too, particularly before August thank you very much). As I pray, I am struck by how many things need prayer--there are the "little" things, like Becca's rabbit needing a home, our leaving Timothy behind when we go back (sniff, sniff), patience for doing what needs doing today and wisdom for the little time I have left here--not little to me, but in the total scheme of things, not things that are monumental. Then there are the monumentals: my nephew in Iraq, my girlfriend who will die of cancer unless God intervenes, our friend in Holland who has just had a bone marrow transplant, another friend just diagnosed with Parkinson's, my brilliant brother-in-law who was rewarded for saving the company a cool million by losing his job. All in need of a miracle. Let me whine a while, please, God.

We had a miracle in Berlin. My friend who is widowed was being cheated out of buying a piece of property by a money-grubber who knew that the property is now only worth something because of all that she invested in it. He wanted 50,000 Euros instead of the assessed value of 22,000. We've been praying earnestly. "God loves widows and orphans," I had told her when her husband died in '99. "Watch and see how he takes care of you." Meanwhile, when we heard about the problem, we prayed in earnest, and put our God on the line by telling her so. When we were in Berlin, she told us the miracle. Another nearly identical piece of property became available--not for 50,000, not for 22,000, but for a cool 4,000 Euros--exactly what she had saved for the down payment. No monthly payments on a limited income. Wow. She too, remembered that statement I'd made about God caring for her, and realized God has performed a miracle for her. I guess when people don't talk about God at all, a statement here and there makes a huge impression.

Now for the other miracles for the other things I'm praying about. BTW, we can check off the rabbit. Becca's friend's mom said yes. But the other stuff? Another chunk of the cheese of God's provision maybe, with my whine, dear Lord?