"JUST A SLIP" A Mustard Seed Memory

 

JUST A SLIP

I was young in the Lord in those days, and I made a lot of foolish mistakes. But one decision from those days has stayed with me: our financial policy. Concerning money and other donations, I insisted on two things:

      1. Nobody involved in the ministry would ever ask anybody for anything, and

      2. We would never admit any need unless someone specifically asked (ie: “Do you need a table?” etc.)

Out of the five we started with, three of us were working. Four of us were attending local churches, and we tithed to them. We gave what we could to the Mustard Seed, but it didn't amount ot enough to depend on.

Nevertheless, the rent was never late, the utilities were always paid, we painted and slowly furnished the place with one easy chair, one folding table and several folding chairs. We also kept the place stocked with Bibles, New Testaments and tracts.

Occasionally, we would try to figure out where all this money was coming from. We always wound up scratching our heads and thanking God.

At first, we operated as a coffee house without a coffee pot. We found it amusing and humbling, but we prayed about it.

One Monday Eira and I got up for work humming an old song, “Every little breeze seems to whisper Louise...”

Neither of us liked the song and we hadn't heard it recently, but we couldn't get it off our minds. All week long it haunted us.

Then Saturday came and we went to the Mustard Seed. There was no furniture yet, so we sat on the floor to pray. Suddenly Ursula jumped up and ran to the door, yelling, “Louise!”

Eira and I stared at each other, round-eyed.

Ursula came back in with a dark-haired girl who'd been standing outside. “This is Louise,” she said. “She's saving her Plaid Stamps to get us a coffee urn.”

Soon afterward a young man named Ray joined. His parents donated a kitchen table and four chairs. One night I arrived and found an overstuffed easy chair in one corner. That and a little cart for the coffee urn was all the furniture we ever had or needed.

Then the trial came. February 26, and no money for the rent. We were all depressed and wondered if the Lord had lost interest.

That night Ray got together with Monica. The rest was only a hundred dollars, but it felt like millions. In Ray's own words, “We had a 'moan and groan' session about it. Finally, we decided to do what we should have been doing all along and pray about it. After a while we were praising God about it.”

At one point, Ray's faith swelled and he decided to step out. He meant to pray, “Thank You, Lord, for the $1,200 a years You'll be giving us,” but his tongue slipped (or seemed to) and he thanked God for “$1,200 dollars a month”!

They had a chuckle over that and forgot about it. It was a Monday night. Over the next two days the rest money arrived.

And kept on arriving.

We were receiving money in odd amounts. One evening a young girl came in. “My mother sent me to the store and told me to keep the change,” she said, “but I want you to have it.” Then she dropped a pile of coins, pennies included, on the table.

Someone from Canada (I never found out who, or how that person learned about us) sent a check to one of the neighborhood churches with a letter telling them to give it to us. It was an amount like $71.39.

Money continued to flow in, always in crazy amounts that included pennies.

That Saturday we sat in the Mustard Seed and marveled. Ray took out his pocket calculator and discovered that we were receiving an average of forty dollars a day. An average month is thirty days, forty times thirty is 1,200!

The next day we went to a house church in Westchester and Ray shared the story with them. As the head elder dismissed us to the dining room for a meal and fellowship, he placed a tambourine on the mantle piece and said, “Anyone who wants to contribute to this work these young people are doing can put it here.”

We waited until we were ready to leave before we took it out.

Forty dollars, exactly.

It stopped pouring in after that. Our needs were always met from that point on, but we all felt humbled and chastised. The fulfillment of Ray's “slip of the tongue” was a gentle rebuke to me then, and whenever I hear a preacher parading his faith and then making a high-pressure appeal for funds, I remember that and wonder how God feels.

Ray's prayer was far more than “just a slip”, and whenever doubt creeps into my mind the Holy Spirit just has to remind me how God loves to confirm His Word:


Philippians 4:19, 20:

And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

Now to our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.


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