Time Out

By Nyx (19), a missionary in the Philippines

Two o’clock in the afternoon. 

               I glanced at my watch while my mind raced. I had just finished my morning business appointments, running around town and foolishly not allowing for the lack of cash I had on me that day. Now I found myself at the mall with the equivalent of less than fifty cents in my pocket. I still had to ride the bus for half an hour to get to the Voice Academy for my Monday night workshop, but without enough to cover travel expenses, there was no way that was going to happen.

               I began to pace hurriedly through the mall, not knowing exactly where I was walking. All I knew was that I didn’t even have enough money to get back home! Frantic, desperate, and frustrated, I debated in my mind who or what was to blame for this mess. The din of the passersby and crowds of mallrats added to the confusion in my brain.

               And then, somewhere, somehow, amidst the turmoil in my heart, there came a certain feeling-a still, small, but familiar Voice. It urged me to stop. Yes, just to stop … and look … and listen.

               To what? I argued within myself.

               Listen to Me. And listen to yourself freaking out like that! The Voice seemed to say, The worst thing in the world to do is to keep on going when you don’t know what to do!

               Okay. Lord, I don’t know what to do, I confessed.

               So stop. And just trust Me. Chill out for a sec.

               It seemed to make sense. What did I have to lose?

               Dear Jesus, I prayed, I’m trying to trust You. Please, help me out.

               I wanted to see some money drop out of the sky. It doesn’t even have to be a lot, I told God, just enough to get me to the Voice Academy and back home.

               I looked up. Nothing. I looked down. Nothing there, either.

               This is stupid. I began to react, but then decided to give Him more than just a few seconds to answer my prayer.

               Trust Me, I felt the whisper say. The workshop is at seven o’clock. You still have over four hours.

               Four hours to see a miracle, I pondered. I could deal with that.

               I slowed my pace to “trusting” speed and walked calmly, hoping my shift in mood would do the trick. As the flame of frustration in my heart seemed to die down and peace began to replace it, I started to sing:

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

               Just to trust His cleansing Word…

This was a little hymn I’d learned as a child in the days when I didn’t even have much to worry about-and certainly not money matters! The words seemed so applicable now.

Just to rest upon His promise,

               Just to know “thus saith the Lord.”

The Voice seemed to be directing where I should walk, what corners I should turn in the huge mall.

And then … I saw them sitting inside Kentucky Fried Chicken. The identical twins.

               I’d met Joy and her sister Honey just weeks before. They were runway and commercial models, about my age, the only female identical twins in the local industry. Now, they waved at me, happy and excited at this chance encounter.

               Or was it?

               An hour later, I was saying goodbye to Honey and Joy. I knew that God had indeed dropped money out of the sky-in His own way. Joy had insisted that I sketch their picture, and of course, they kindly paid for the on-the-spot portrait.

               I had the cash I needed, I made it to the workshop early, and, of course, I made it safely home.

               And I had that still, small Voice to thank. It taught me that in times when my head is spinning out of control, all I have to do is to take time out-to stop … look … and listen.