Really, I've lost count. As soon as I quit counting the costs, the miracles skyrocketed.
This week's miracle must be told in three parts. Probably there are more than three characters involved, but these are the key players.
1. Sister Chants*. Old lady with sweet words and a terrible driving record. Takes the missionaries to Cici's Pizza whenever we have a blank on the dinner calendar. Calls us on cold days to make sure we're OK. A saint by all accounts. Her greatest challenge is memory loss. She can't prepare a primary lesson in advance because it will slip from her mind before she has time to deliver it. So, in faith, she simply reads the lesson straight from the manual. I'm not sure how her 8 year-old students respond to this, but it is her token of faith, and God magnifies the gift.
2. Sister Gifford*. Our bishop's wife, fondly dubbed "Heavenly Mother" by the missionaries. She has six children and wears a perma-smile. Somehow makes time to come teaching with the missionaries and to raise bright, happy kids. When wrapping Christmas gifts with her recently, she commented that she felt bad that she isn't a better missionary. "I should be giving out Book of Mormons and finding people to teach, but sometimes I just don't know where I'd fit that into my day," she said. We know better. Life comes in seasons, and her season is one of being a missionary to her children.
3. Tina*. New investigator, recovering addict. She has tried to quilt before, but this time it was for her kids. They are a story of their own. Two adorable little boys, and one has red hair. Melt my heart. We taught them a Christmas lesson about Christ, and her boys eagerly accepted Book of Mormons and an invitation to baptism. We set a return appointment with glowing visions of their family filling an empty pew in the OKC 2nd ward.
On Saturday we arrived a Tina's home with Sister Gifford in tow. She brought Marcus* and Lyle*, ages 9 and 11. They were excited to teach the restoration to Tina's boys. Much to our sorrow, Tina was indisposed and could not meet. Sister Gifford spoke cheerfully to Tina, we invited the family to church, and then they loaded up their minivan and left.
On Sunday we reminded Tina about church. No response to our text. We sat at the back of the chapel and hoped. Our hopes were vain, as no family arrived. Disappointment is the common lot of missionary work, but this is not the end of the story.
Our story continues with Sister Chants. That same day, she read her primary lesson to her class. sister Gifford's nine year-old was the only child in attendance, so they sat in a little room and she read while he listened. A dull lesson to most children, but Lyle went home that day and told his mom about the lesson. "Mom, I heard a story about a family who said a prayer, and the prayer wasn't answered. So then they fasted, and their prayer came true!" He then concluded, "I want to fast for Tina's family to come to church."
And so on a Monday morning while we blindly pursued our P-day activities, a consecrated nine year-old prayerfully skipped breakfast so our investigators would come to church.
This the miracle. I do not know how the story will end, but I do know that the faith of a child-the unexpected product of many faithful adults-has given me the faith that I need to believe. I will work harder and pray more this week because a child cared enough about his neighbors to sacrifice his bowl of cereal for their salvation.
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