I am so glad that I have kept a journal of the God moments in my life. When I look back on what I have written, I am moved to gratitude by the Lord’s constant care for me and those I pray for. Here is one of the stories I have collected. I pray it blesses you as well.
When my daughter turned nineteen, she announced that she was moving from our small mountain town in central California to Pasadena. I wasn’t crazy about my youngest daughter moving to the big city, but I remembered the Beach Boys song, “The Little Old Lady from Pasadena.” If my daughter was determined to relocate to southern California, I supposed that Pasadena was a safer choice than most.
After a couple of years of junior college, she and her roommate Laura decided to transfer to the university. That meant moving away from the little old ladies in Pasadena and settling for a place that was less advantageous, to say the least.
“We’re not living in the ghetto. We’re just living in the ‘ghett,’” Ashley joked, trying to reassure her parents she would be safe. She was right. It wasn’t completely frightening, but there were enough shady characters and siren sounds to keep a mother on her knees every night asking God to send angels to watch over her petite blonde beauty living in Los Angeles.
After parking her car one night, Ashley cautiously began walking to her door. She passed a group of guys who took notice of the fact she was alone. She and Laura had a habit of calling each other as soon as they got out of the car and staying on the cell phone until they were safely inside, but tonight Laura wasn’t home either. Pretending to be on the phone, Ashley heard footsteps following her. With her heart in her throat, she breathed a prayer for safety.
Then she heard a voice behind her, “Sweetie, you’re being followed. I am just going to walk with you until you get to your door.”
“Normally, if some guy calls me ‘Sweetie,’ he’s the one I want to avoid,” Ashley said. “But the minute this stranger opened his mouth, I felt safe. He didn’t actually walk with me. He stayed a few steps behind me. I reached my apartment, put my key in the door, and turned to thank him, but he was gone. He was nowhere in sight.”
Ashley didn’t get to express her gratitude to her benefactor that night, but I haven’t stopped thanking God for answering this fretting mother’s prayers.