Test of Obedience.

I had every intention of driving home.

"I think," God said, "We should go to a park."

"We should?" I mulled this over as I rolled down the windows to enjoy the chill spring air.

"....Tenney Park? Are we to have some quiet time?"

"Yes. And yes."

I sighed. If nature and fresh air was what He was looking for, there was plenty of that far more conveniently located than Tenney Park. However, the suggestion remained implanted. Tenney Park is one of my favorite parks of the few I have been to in Madison. It lays along Lake Mendota, with a pier stretching far out into the water, like a little rock and cement peninsula. Large boulders surround the cement pier itself. I immensely enjoy scampering on boulders.

So, I went. A few wrong turns and some twenty minutes later, I pulled into the muddy parking area. "A test of obedience," God murmured to me as I arrived. I noticed to my left a man sitting in a junky car staring at me. While emptying my bag, hiding my computer, and finding a snack in my glove box, I glanced up at him now and again. Each time, his eyes remained impassively upon me.

God directed me to a path that rimmed the still icy water. Gulls and ducks caused a cacophony that calmed rather than distracted. In spring such sounds are welcome relief to the dead winter.

There was no mincing words as I walked with God along the sand. "You," He said, "are no longer a child. You are going to grow up. You are ready for this." More followed in a rapid succession of reminders, instructions, and encouragements.

As an ending flourish to such candor, He stated, "You can go back to the car now."

A test of obedience...my bright red shoes scuffed themselves on the pavement as I nipped across the street back to my car, three steps ahead of a mini-van. I looked up. And who should I see, staring at me just as before? The odd little man. He was perched on the hood of his car in an almost feminine pose, hands clasped daintily on his lap, and legs crossed at the ankles.

"It would be just like You," I prayed silently, "to have me talk to Him." I felt God smile. And then....

"Do you have a cigarette?" the odd little man asked.

"No, I'm afraid not. Sorry." He accepted the reply with a nod that seemed to say, 'I rather expected not'.

"Give him your Bible instead."

"For real?" I knew it. I knew it!

God repeated. "Give him your Bible."

"But it's my tiny ESV from Becki and Tim, " I objected, "All my notes from China and Japan are in there! Their little loves notes are written in the cover! There is a picture of Becki and I glued in there, for heavens sake."

His resolve was unmoved. I hesitated a moment. I admired the pretty purple designs. And knew it wasn't mine anymore. Half in and half out of my car, I turned, and was this time not surprised to find him staring at me. His curiousity heightened as I walked to him and held out a tiny purple book. My favorite Bible.

"I don't have cigarettes, but would you take this instead?"

His green fingerless mitts reached out. "Bible?"

"Yeah. I took it with me on a missions trip to Asia last summer. I feel like you're to have it."

It opened. "Oh. There's a picture of you in there."

"My sister and I. She bought it for me before I left."

Suddenly, he began to talk. He explained that his daughter and her boyfriend had gone to find some gas. He'd been waiting with the broken down car for quite some time, but was sure his daughter would be back soon. "I'm homeless," he said, "but my daughter is letting me stay with her off and on. I'll give the Bible to her."

I asked if I could pray for him, but he quickly demurred. "But I'll give the Bible to my daughter."

"I had thought," I prayed as I drove away, "that going there would result in something for me."

"Test of obedience..." God said, "wasn't this better?"