When the phone rang it seemed as if I was still lying on the bed, half-conscious, eyes closed, urging myself to get up and take out my contacts before I went to sleep so I didn’t have a headache in the morning. But, I wasn’t. It was 4:45 am the next morning. The voice on the other end was President asking if I was coming to Springfield. I had been vacillating between staying home because Neal didn’t have school, Emily was coming, and the largest craft fair in the nation was in Bentonville, which meant there would be lots of people the Lord could place in my path. (I must admit the fair sounded fun too.) I told him I was going to stay.
A few minutes later, as I knelt to pray, I began to go over my decision with the Lord. I told him my plans and asked Him to help me be able to determine if there was anything else He would like me to do with my time. The usual inspiration to contact a couple of missionaries came to mind, but that was it. I got off my knees and settled into my favorite chair for study. A few minutes later, the familiar sound of rain pounded on my window. Immediately, I knew more people would benefit from me going to interviews than staying home. Springfield it was! There was only one problem. I needed to leave right away if I was to get there in time. I interrupted my sprint past the bathroom mirror with a pause that revealed my hair wasn’t too bad so it would take considerable less time to complete my morning routine. I was delighted.
As I slipped my arm into my sleeve, I had the sense that someone had prayed me to Springfield. I had often listened to President Monson say he had gone somewhere and then found out that people had been praying he would come, but that certainly hadn’t happened to me before – at least - that I’d recognized. With the surety that comes when you know you’re doing the Lord’s business, I set out. The steady sound of the windshield wipers seemed to say. Someone is waiting for you, someone is waiting for you.
The darkness of the early morning hour didn’t matter. The wet roads didn’t matter. The two hour drive didn’t matter. The only things that mattered was the knowledge I was on God’s errand.
When I arrived I was greeted by a zone of Elders and Sisters whose dedication and love for the Lord had often served as an example of what true disciples do. Our prayers and the experiences we shared with each other while President was interviewing was a huge blessing to me.
So six hours later, I retraced my route. It was still raining, but I could see. And I was basking in the reminder that, “the object of prayer is not to change the will of God but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant” (BD-prayer).
A few minutes later, as I knelt to pray, I began to go over my decision with the Lord. I told him my plans and asked Him to help me be able to determine if there was anything else He would like me to do with my time. The usual inspiration to contact a couple of missionaries came to mind, but that was it. I got off my knees and settled into my favorite chair for study. A few minutes later, the familiar sound of rain pounded on my window. Immediately, I knew more people would benefit from me going to interviews than staying home. Springfield it was! There was only one problem. I needed to leave right away if I was to get there in time. I interrupted my sprint past the bathroom mirror with a pause that revealed my hair wasn’t too bad so it would take considerable less time to complete my morning routine. I was delighted.
As I slipped my arm into my sleeve, I had the sense that someone had prayed me to Springfield. I had often listened to President Monson say he had gone somewhere and then found out that people had been praying he would come, but that certainly hadn’t happened to me before – at least - that I’d recognized. With the surety that comes when you know you’re doing the Lord’s business, I set out. The steady sound of the windshield wipers seemed to say. Someone is waiting for you, someone is waiting for you.
The darkness of the early morning hour didn’t matter. The wet roads didn’t matter. The two hour drive didn’t matter. The only things that mattered was the knowledge I was on God’s errand.
When I arrived I was greeted by a zone of Elders and Sisters whose dedication and love for the Lord had often served as an example of what true disciples do. Our prayers and the experiences we shared with each other while President was interviewing was a huge blessing to me.
So six hours later, I retraced my route. It was still raining, but I could see. And I was basking in the reminder that, “the object of prayer is not to change the will of God but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant” (BD-prayer).