God Loves Me

This past Friday, I stepped outside to get pictures of the rain for my next book.  The heavier rain had tapered off to a simple drizzle and I was mesmerized, as I frequently am, by the little things, the ripples created by the raindrops in the puddles, the raindrops themselves suspended on blades of grass.  It was peaceful and a reminder of how important it is for my spiritual self, to get out in nature and feel God’s presence, even if I’m only a few steps from the backdoor.

I hadn’t brought my phone with me while I was outside, but I was close to my phone that when it rang, as it wound up doing that morning, my watch buzzed and chimed to let me know.

I didn’t recognize the number, but I was pretty sure who it was.  Every time I publish a book, I start getting spammed by scammers from overseas trying to get me to give them money to publish and market my book.  I ignore most of these calls, but occasionally, I feel in a good enough mood to answer the phone and warn them that they are breaking the law (I have no idea if that’s true) and that I will report them if they continue their harassment.  The last time I answered one of these calls a couple of months ago, I had the caller so frustrated with me getting him off his script that he hung up on me.

Once or twice I have thought about the fact that given all the books I write these days are about God, I should use these phone calls with scammers as a witnessing opportunity.

And when the phone rang this past Friday, when I was feeling calm and filled with God from my time outside, I decided to answer the phone, (or answer my watch in this case).  I didn’t know what I would say to caller, but I figured I would start by asking if they had read my book.  I mean why should I do business, I would ask them, if they hadn’t even read my book.

Because of the rain and because I was talking Dick Tracy-style on my watch, I was having a hard time hearing the man on the other end.  I had no idea which one of my books he was talking about and he wasn’t taking a breath to let me talk to him or even hang up semi-politely. 

I was just about ready to interject my question about whether or not he had read my book, when he said something that no one in the hundreds of calls like these that I had answered over the years had ever said to me.

“I read the synopsis of your book on Amazon,” he said to me.  “And the words ‘God loves me’ really spoke to me.”

Much as I suspected, he had not read the book, but no one had ever told me they had read what my book was about and no one had ever quoted me words from the book.

I now knew exactly what book he was talking about, my latest entitled, I Wrote These Words for You. 

“I’m glad they spoke to you,” I said, somewhat hesitantly.  Was he being real with me or was this just more of the scam?  He was very off-script either way.

“I just really needed to hear those words today, ‘God loves me’” he continued.  “I’m having a hard time at home and work.”

Again, I wasn’t quite ready to believe him, though I was getting more intrigued by the second.  “You should really read my book,” I told him.  “If those words meant something to you, you need to read the book.”

And then he said something—and I can’t quite remember how he worded it—but it was something along the lines of that he would have a hard time getting a copy of the book.

At that point, I was thinking, well he’s already on Amazon, just click on the “buy it now” button, but then I remembered that these calls were from overseas—I actually got a woman to admit to me once how they ping off of cellphone towers, preferably a tower close to where you are so that you are more likely to pick up the phone.

So he was most likely not calling me from inside the United States and it hit me right then that what he was doing right then, going off script, talking to me about God, might be very dangerous for him.

“Look,” I said to him, “I hope you’re being honest with me—I’m going to assume you’re being honest with me and I want you to know that I’m praying for you.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Really,” I continued, “I am praying for you right now.  I am praying that God put His hand on you, that He fill you with His spirit, that when He does fill you with that spirit that He would lift you up and put you on the path He wants you on.”

As I was talking, I felt myself getting louder and louder because I was ready to fight for this man.

As I spoke, he sometimes broke in.  He told me how much the prayers meant to him and sometimes it seemed like he was trying to get back on the script he was supposed to be on.  Perhaps so that when his employers questioned him later, because I have no doubt they either listen in live or perhaps later, but he could create a plausible deniability and insist by going back to the script, he was just playing me.

All of it just made me pray harder.

Finally, I ended the call.  I told him I would keep praying for him.  I told him to take care.  And then I hung up.

Still outside, I noticed the rain had stopped.  The air smelled sweet.  The word for it is “petrichor.”  It’s that earthly, damp dirt smell we all are familiar with after the rain.

“God loves me.”

Three words.

Three words had changed the course of that man’s day and perhaps his life.

In today’s reading from John 6:1-15, we get the feeding of the 5,000 miracle, the fishes and loaves miracle.  But what I want to focus on specifically is the part after the feeding, when Jesus tells the disciples, “Gather up the fragments.”  Now those words have a deep meaning, especially when we are told those fragments filled twelve baskets.  Numbers always have meaning in the Bible and these are no different.

But rather than go into that, I want to just focus on those words, “Gather up the fragments.”

Get the crumbs.

Nothing goes to waste.

I remember how my depression-era grandparents would practically lick the plate clean at dinner, suck every ounce of chicken off the bone, because they knew how important those crumbs were.

And yet food waste in this country is astounding and I admit to being a large part of that.

But Jesus tells the disciples, “Gather up the fragments,” because nothing goes to waste.  Nothing, not one crumb, is unimportant.

This past Friday, God fed that man on the phone with me, with spiritual crumbs.

Three words.

Of course, I know and have come to terms with the fact that my books will never be bestsellers, but that doesn’t mean that God can’t use three words from one of those books to change a man’s life a half a world away.

I confessed last week that the thing I hate/dread the most about writing my books is having to write that back cover summary.  I never feel good about anything I write in those summaries.  The words feel weak and not a good representation of the book itself.

And yet, last Friday, it was the summary that reached that man.

And even less than that.

Three words.

God loves me.

How will God use your words to reach someone today?

Amen.