Wednesday, October 29, 2008

HAIRBRUSH EXPERIENCE OF BETH MOORE AT THE AIRPORT - CROSSPURPOSES 139

CROSSPURPOSES 139

Hi Guys Fred here,

This story from the US was sent to me recently. I’ve learned to be sceptical of stories that arrive on my computer unsolicited. But one of my members sent it so I thought I’d check out its origins and lo and behold, its true! So I’m giving it to you this week as CROSSPURPOSES.
Enjoy it!

HAIRBRUSH EXPERIENCE OF BETH MOORE AT THE AIRPORT

For those of you who do not know Beth Moore, she is an outstanding Bibleteacher, writer of Bible studies, and is a married mother of two daughters. This is one of her experiences: April 20, 2005, at the Airport in Knoxville , TN waiting to board theplane, I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I wasdoing. I'd had a marvellous morning with the Lord. I say this because Iwant to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God reallyworking in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego. I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humpedover in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes thatobviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier His kneesprotruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coathanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses ofveins and bones.The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy, gray hairhung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernailswere long , clean but strangely out of place on an old man. I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning myface. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I foundmyself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, Iremembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport... animpersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere? There I sat; trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served up on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while, my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him. Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern,and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-lookingold man. I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall.I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something socontrary to my natural feelings, some thing dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on myspirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. 'Oh, no, God, please,no .' I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through itinto heaven and said, 'Don't make me witness to this man. Not right hereand now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don'tmake me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!' There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, 'Please don'tmake me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane.' Then Iheard it...'I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair.' The words were so clear, my heart leap into my throat, and my thoughtsspun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No-brainier.I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, 'Go d, as I live andbreathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm onthis Lord. I'm your girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a manfaster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am going to witness to this man' Again as clearly asI've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statementacross the wall of my mind. 'That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair.' I looked up at God and quipped, 'I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?' God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began towalk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: 'I willthoroughly furnish you unto all good works.' (2 Timothy 3:17) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Evenas I retell this story, my pulse quickens and I feel those samebutterflies. I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely aspossible, 'Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?' He looked back at me and said, 'What did you say?' 'May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?' To which he responded in volume ten, 'Little lady, if you expect me tohear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that.' At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out , 'SIR, MAY I HAVETHE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?' At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Long Locks. Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, 'If you really want to.' Are you kidding? Of course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, 'Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush.' 'I have one in my bag,' he responded.I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands andknees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing what Iwas doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It wasperfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many thingswell, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hairmothering two little girls. Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissain such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands,remembering to take my time not to pull. A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair. I know this sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I - for that few minutes -felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while. The emotions were so strong and so pure t hat I knew they had to beGod's. His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag and went around the chair to facehim. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees and said,'Sir, do you know my Jesus?' He said, 'Yes, I do' Well, that figures, I thought. He explained, 'I'veknown Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior.' He said, 'You see, the problem is, Ihaven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she'sbeen too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself, whata mess I must be for my bride.' Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it. Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft. I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down hercheeks. She said, 'That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why didyou do that? What made you do that?' I said, 'Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!' And we got to share. I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted,you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to moveon but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting orfeeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees youas an individual. Tell Him your need! I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how manyopportunities just like that one had I missed along the way . . allbecause I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send meto that old man. He sent that old man to me.. John 1:14 'The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth' Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly shouting,'Wow! What a ride! Thank You, Lord!' If your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light........ Mt. 6:22 By God's grace I am what I am..... 1 Corinthians 15:10

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