  Spiritual
This week: Edited by: Becky Simpson  
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None of us have seen the face of God. So it says in the Bible, but maybe, just maybe, He touched us with His finger? How about you? Have you been touched by God? Has He in someway made Himself known to you, or have you seen Him make a difference in your life? It is funny to me that so many of us are blessed with His everyday miracles and, yet, fail to see them.
With your permission I would like to share with you the first time God touched my life. It wasn’t the last time, but sometimes, the first times are the ones that make the biggest impression. As usual I hope that you realize that I refer to God on a universal basis, in other words, I don’t care what you call Him. (user:becky_hayes)
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Skeletons are wonderful things: They hold us upright; give us the ability to lift, walk, carry, and in general lead a normal life. Without bones, our bodies would be a quivering, lump of flesh. Within the English language, there are oddities that occur, quirks if you wish, where words are no longer precise. Words often have multiple meanings such as skeletons, which does mean the bones that make our skeletal system, and also means things hidden in a closet. Confused? Family and personal secrets are often referred to as skeletons; which are often said to be “hidden” in the closet. Many of us have these skeletons, and really wish to keep them safely hidden from others. The first time God touched my life is one of those skeletons.
So, I am going to reach into the closet shake the dust off the skeleton and share a family secret with you. It is not a pleasant thing, and some will jump to judgment of one or more of the people involved. Please keep in mind that it is up to God to judge. For my part I have forgiven and asked forgiveness for this skeleton. The story for you more Biblically astute readers will remind you of the story of Tamar. However, it has a dramatically different ending.
When I was a child I was always close to my brothers, often following them around and attempting to do the things they did. When at five-years old, my brother and I were adopted the bond became closer as he was literally the only brother I had. As is natural between siblings, we had our moments when we argued and fought over things, but we would still defend each other against outsiders. As we grew older this kinship faded as my brother grew evermore worldly. Until the year I turned twelve.
As the girl of the house my life consisted of indoor chores, quite often menial things that were laborious. On this particular day I was cleaning the kitchen floor. Now I have no idea what it was made of, or if you have ever experienced this, but the tiles were alternating colors of black and white. I had found to actually make the floor look clean, I had to clean each tile individually. This process seemed to take forever, and when it was done, I was understandably proud of my efforts. My brother who spent a good deal of time outside suddenly banged through the back door and tromped through the kitchen. In his wake was a trail of brown muckiness.
My brother’s name is Steve, and his name escaped my lips as my eyes nearly laser beamed him in half. At hearing his name, he stopped in his tracks and looked around. A hint of a smirk took his lips, and he trekked backwards to the screen door where he scraped the bottom of his shoes. “Gee thanks, ” I shot at him as I re-cleaned the tiles he had tracked up. The anger in my voice made him break into a smile. I could tell he was considering his answer when the phone rang.
I had always been fascinated by one-sided phone conversations. This one was no different. I paused in my scrubbing to listen to my brother. “Yeah?” No one in the family was really burdened with etiquette, but my brother did not bother with it at all. “No kidding?” He sounded almost excited, which was totally unusual. “Yeah she’s right here.” My ears perked up at that, somebody was asking about me? Secretly I hoped it was Luke; he was by and far the cutest of my brother’s friends. There was a long pause, and as I watched, my brother fidgeted with things on the table. “She might.” He peered at with thoughtful eyes. “I’ll ask her but no guarantees, ok, sure, she should learn.” He continued to stare at me.
As he hung up, I was overcome with curiosity and just had to ask. “What was that about?” Steve told me that his friends wanted him to come over and had asked if I would like to come, too. He smiled as if he had just handed me a gift, but I really hoped Luke would be involved and that would make my brother’s condescension worth taking. “So?...” Steve watched me carefully as I made up my mind. It had been a long time since I had desired to follow him anywhere. I finally nodded my head, and we soon headed out the door.
The house belonged to the Greens and was across a wooded field from our own house. We made the trip in short order. I was wearing a pair of blue jeans and tee shirt. Our destination lay in front of us. Steve opened the door without knocking, and I was at his heels. Still thinking if Luke was going to be here I would really enjoy having tagged along. It took all of two seconds to realize I had stumbled into something bad. There were eight boys and one girl older than myself in the room. She was nude, and as I entered one of the boys told the others to take the girl to a bedroom.
As for me, I spun on my heels and ran smack into my brother blocking the door. “Move!” I nearly screamed in his face. He smiled an evil smirk I had seen once before. I tried to kick him to hurt him enough to make him move. He stopped my attack by pushing me backwards. Time slowed to a crawl. As I fell I could see the other boys returning. I rolled when I hit the floor and was back on my feet in seconds.
What happened next has stayed with me throughout my entire life. The boys moved quickly to surround me, and an incredible deadly serious game began. I knew what was going to happen, but I was not going to allow it to happen easily. At school I had run into some of my other older brothers, and they had taught me how to evade being caught. We played chase for hours on the school ground, now I played the game for real.
The boys tried to grab me, but I was spinning away and down or up -- kicking, punching, elbowing, and biting. Still my heart was in my throat because there was no way to escape. There were too many of them and not enough room to escape. My brother had not joined in the fracas but was smiling smugly, his face whipping by my vision as I spun. I was knocked to my knees by a leg and there was a general melee as the boys tussled to keep me down. I felt it as someone’s hand struggled with my jeans.
I still could not give up kicking for all I was worth. One boy moaned in pain, but it brought me no pleasure. I just wanted out. It was then that God chose to touch my life. A sound like thunder shook the house; I felt it through the floor. The thunder reverberated through the house again. The boys froze at the sound; I did not. Jumping up, I ran over them and headed to the back of the house. I knew the house as well as my own and knew there was a bathroom back there with a window and locking door.
The thunder came again as I raced away. As I reached the hall a voice came out of the void of silence that had descended. “This is the sheriff, open up please.” For some reason or possibly because reason had left me I did not stop. The older girl lay on the bed in the closest bedroom. I grabbed her and her clothes and kept going. I didn’t find out what happened with the sheriff till later, because as soon as I reached the bathroom I had the window open and pushed the other girl through and followed myself. Once out of the window, we ran for the woods. When we got there, I stopped and told the girl to put her clothes on. She seemed dazed but simply said, “I want to go back.“
I stared at her in disbelief. Back! She had to be nuts. Finally in exasperation I told her to do as she pleased. I ran back to my house and left her in the woods. If I had not run, I wonder if the boys would have tackled me and tried to bluff their way through the sheriff. My brother got home in the early morning hours; I am sure to avoid what he thought may be my very angry parents. The truth is I never told them. I did use the incident to blackmail my brother into behaving himself for a very long time.
Today my brother is an alcoholic, and I have forgiven him and the others for what they tried to do, and often I still think of it and thank God for His intervention. I know my repetition of this event probably raises all sorts of ethical and moral questions in your minds, but the point is still the same: God touched my life.
In Matthew 18 we read that God’s angels watch over the children. Not one or two but all of them. Some of you may be tempted to say coincidence, or merely luck. I say reason with me for a minute. God today does not directly speak with us. He has no need since His testament is complete. He does not directly interact with us for the same reason. So how can what happened to me be explained as God touching my life?
I refer you again to Matthew 18. There it says God uses all things for good. The sheriff I discovered had come to that house because he knew the Green boys and their reputation. God used their reputation against them and for me. It took me a long while before I recognized what had happened for what it was. It is sometimes easy to ignore God’s hand in our lives, or to fail to recognize it. On many other occasions God has touched my life with good things.
I pray that you have experienced God’s gracious hand in your life. Hopefully under better circumstances, for it is not always when bad things are happening to us that God chooses to touch us. It is, however, then that we are most likely to recognize His hand. What if you are not a Christian? Will He touch your life? The answer is undeniably, yes! Why? The answer is in His love for us. God so loved us that He allowed His son to die for our sins. If He so loved the world, is it not possible, even probable that He moves within our lives daily.
God touched my life the second time in college, there in Gainesville I chose to become a Christian, and as I have matured I can see looking back along my life that He never really ever let me walk alone. As I look forward I have the hope that God will walk with me till the end. My story may not be as dramatic as some, yet for me it approached a miracle. God touched my life most recently when He let me find a new mom. Mine is mom to about a dozen different people on this site. Her name: Vivian Zabel. Her love and concern for others has rekindled my own love and care for others. Thank you God for allowing us to meet.
As always I am at your service.
"May Angels Watch"
By:VictoriaMcCullough 
May Angels watch from distant lighthouses,
May they always find nature's cure,
May they give luck to your spouses,
May they finally keep your kindred pure.
May Angels fill your blue skies,
May they lift you up to heaven, on their wings
May they strengthen your family ties
May they send you all good things.
May Angels watch for your fate,
May they break your falls when in too deep,
May they find grace for you before it's too late,
May they live through your memories to keep.
May Angels steer you into morning dew,
May they warm you and live in your heart,
May they bear the burden of your sorrow too,
May they find you when you depart.
A beautiful poem…..and here is one more, there are so many on the site it is hard to pick just one. Funnyface is happy to be back wrote this one and it oddly fits so perfectly.
Do Angels Come Wearing A Badge?
A lad was fishing on the banks of a brook
Hurriedly, he put his bait on the hook
The water was cold and gushing at a speed
He cast his line out, he was excited indeed
He stood there, for hours, without a bite
Then all of a sudden, a fish caught his sight
He got so excited, for a fish he had seen
Forgetting to be careful he fell into the stream
He was soon swept up, off his feet
And carried below in the water so deep
His jacket hooked on a log of a tree
As much as he struggled, he couldn’t get free
Scared, he panicked and started to cry
Then he remembered God walks by his side
Opening his mouth he started to pray
But the water washed his words away
He knew he was drowning and would soon die
So silently he whispered another plea
“Father if you're too busy to listen to me
“Please send an angel to set me free"
A policeman nearby, heard the young boy's cry
Quickly, he rushed to the water’s side
Saw the boy’s head, then he made a dive
The lad was listless but he was alive
The man rescued and took him to shore
Wrapped him in his jacket to get him warm
The young boy opened his eyes and smiled
He knew he was one lucky child
He wondered if his parents would be mad
Yet there was one question that he still had
When he gets home he'll ask his Mom and Dad
"Do angels come wearing a badge"?
With that I will close, and as I do I will say it once again; May God be with you all.
Hugs
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The following members of Writing.Com are some of my favorite writers on Writing.Com. They exhibit and understanding and skill that, simply put, amaze me. I hope those I have forgotten will forgive me, but as time goes on and my memory prods, me this list will change.
Vivian 
Puditat
Dreams - Anon, who are you?
Lexi
đź‘Ľintuey 
Andrea
revdbob
Brother Don
SUGGESTED READINGS:
My suggested readings for this month:
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Questions and comments from last month my thanks to those who wrote in, if you wish to comment this month feel free, I shall answer them individually.
Submitted By:Starr* Rathburn
Submitted Comment:
Becky, I loved your recounting of the sermon based on the 23rd Psalm. Simply beautiful! Thank you for sharing.
Starr*
Hi, Starr, and thank you for your kind words. Encouragement is something we never truly get enough of. I wish the beauty contained in the Bible, not to mention the love. Hugs– Becky
Submitted By: werden
Submitted Comment:
This was a good sermon. I think the pastor hit the nail right on the head. I did notice though you typed in the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want part twice. Were you trying to make the point stick :)
Nicely done.
Hmm, I think perhaps you caught me in an error. Not that I don’t make them very often, seems I do every day. Thanks for the kind comment and for pointing out my repetitive nature. Hugs – Becky
Submitted By: Comalarosa
Submitted Comment:
I LOVED what you had to say in "About This Newsletter," especially the part about not seeking anyone's APPROVAL for your belief in God. BLESS YOU, BECKY!!!!!!!!!!!
Hi, I hope sincerely that others understand one thing. I do not attack them for their beliefs and I share some of the things I do to point out that people with beliefs other than my own are not to be disrespected for there belief: nor am I. God is truly love. Hugs –n- love Becky
Submitted By: angel
Submitted Comment:
Dear,Becky you should write a book,and title it THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD.By BECKY SIMPSON
It would be a best seller....Don.
Dear Don, If I were to write a book it would indeed have buried in it examples of God’s love. Unless of course it were a total fabrication of my imagination, in which case it may be entitled: “Why I would like to be a sheep.” Just teasing, actually I have a pretty active imagination and enjoy equally writing about my Lord and all sorts of other things. Hugs – Becky
Submitted By: hoosiermomma2
Submitted Comment:
As a newbie here trying to find a niche, receiving this newsletter today was a gift. It was nice being given some suggested authors and I could feel the bond that is here between many of the writers. Thank you.
Hi, Indeed there is a great bond between us all, even though we don’t all necessarily agree with each other in all aspects of life. FORTUNATELY! In any case allow me to welcome you to Writing.Com and encourage you to let us see some of your writing. Hugs – Becky
Submitted By: Kenzie - Snow and more coming!
Submitted Comment:
Another great newsletter, Becky. An EMT once told me that seriously injured people often mumble the 23rd Psalm and the Lord's Prayer, even if they haven't been in church for years and years.
Thanks for studying this for us. I was only 13 and studying to be confirmed when I first had to memorize the 23rd Psalm. Many years later, I assisted in a Sunday school class of middle-aged new believers who were also encouraged to memorize this. We studied the words, but really didn't study sheep and shepherds like you did. I appreciate the information.
Hi, Kenzie, there are many people on here that I wish I could get to know better, you are one. Your kindness and encouragement means a great deal to me personally as does all encouraging comments. I thank you for taking the time to send your comments. Many remember the psalm as one often read at funerals, what a waste, it is so beautiful and so true we should, like you, know it by heart. Hugs – Becky
Submitted By: diana
Submitted Comment:
You are right Becky. In the beginning there was only one word, one religion, and all others deviated from it branching out into different texts. It doesn't matter from where it comes, they are all basically the same; they share a common thread that binds us to one another spiritually. It's not the belief or practice that matters, it's Faith. Keep on writing, your doing great.
Hi, Diana, I am not sure how you determined this is where I was headed with my comments but it is definitely a thought to be entertained. I would say that some might say that apostasy created religions that vary. Myself, I wonder, when God confused the speech of man at the tower of Babel if He did not foresee that it would lead to many different ideas of what God is. One other thing to remember when we study: A story told to an individual has about zero chance of being retold by that person exactly as he heard it. Thanks for the thought provoking comments. Hugs – Becky
AND FROM MY EMAIL
Hi, Becky
I put my comment in the space provided for a comment, but it was too large for the
space provided, so I thought I would send it to you this way as I wanted you to get it
all. I think this work about the twenty third Psalm newsletter is great. I, too, have my
interpretation of the twenty third Psalm. Here it is:
He May
The Lord
May
Be my
Shepherd.
He may
Give me all that I need;
So that I shall never want
For anything.
He may
Have me to lay down in green
Pastures so that I might have
A better appreciation of those
Things He has given me that I
Have not even asked for.
He may
Lead me beside the still
Waters so that I might better
Understand the serenity His Love
And it can constantly flow
Into me.
He May
Restore my soul so that
I will be reborn and saved.
He May
Lead me down the path of
Righteousness so that I will
Better understand that He is
Doing it just for His Names sake.
He may
Be with me to act as a rod and staff
To comfort me while I walk through the
Valley of the Shadow of Death, and have me
To fear no evil.
He may
Set a table for me in the presence of
My enemies so that I might know that
Even my enemies are the same as I am....
Human.... and fallible.
He may
Anoint my head with oil and make my
Cup run over so that I might better
Understand that His Love (that runs to
Overflowing) never ends even though I can
Only comprehend just so much about His Love.
He may
Give me all the goodness and mercy I will ever
Need all the days of my life so that I might
Always be reassured and reminded that He means
What He says.
He may
Allow me to dwell
In His house forever
So that I might reap
The rewards of His Love.
But am I really
Deserving of any
Of this (as a mere
Mortal sinner)? No!
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
God's blessings to you. wrdz
Always remember:
Hi, Wrdz, and thank you for sharing such a wonderful poem with me and now all the readers. I like your interpretation a lot. I have as I hope has been illustrated in this newsletter been one of God’s sheep. He has truly protected me, guided me, fed me plentifully, and led me through the toughest times. Your poem reminds me once again to be earnestly grateful for those gifts, and for people like you who proffer their own hearts belief. May God bless you.
May God bless you all who have read this newsletter and to the rest of you kind readers who made comments about last month’s newsletter; thank you. If it were not for your kind words, I would be inclined to find another way to spend the time I spend here.
If you have a question, comment or just an observation concerning this edition of the Spiritual Newsletter, please feel free to send it to me. I would also like our newsletter readers to send me their favorite work. Please include the writer’s name. I prefer works from Writing.Com.
Next weeks editor:Puditat
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Spiritual: February 07, 2007 Issue [#1532]
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