miracles and healing testimonies

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Rev. E. Anderson
THE LITTLE LAMB

Donna Paulson

“He tends his flock like a shepherd; he gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart” -Isaiah 40:11

“God, I really need You today,” I whispered, grabbing a handful of sand and watching the grains flow from my closed fist. “Here I am, feeling like that little lost lamb again.”

I loved this image of myself as a lamb being protected by the Good Shepherd. It helped me feel free to talk to God. As a single mother, I prayed for each of my four children and for the ability to take care of them. It was overwhelming keeping my family out of trouble, and at times I feared that I was failing miserably. Some days like this, brought feelings of being alone and abandoned.

That morning, while reading the Bible I came across the verse, “He will feed His flock like shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arm.” (Isaiah 40:11) This scripture had a special meaning to me. It had been shown to me a few months earlier by a counsellor, when I’d approached her for prayer because of a hard situation I was having with my daughter. The counsellor, underlining the words with her finger, had emphasized the remaining text, “He will carry them in His bosom and will gently lead those with young.”

I took this as a promise from God that He was there to help me raise my children, providing the grace I needed. Although it was encouraging to be reminded of this again, my sadness lingered. I needed something more.

It was warm and sunny so on my way home from work I decided to go to the beach. I drove to State Beach, a stretch of shoreline over four miles long. Since it was September, off-season, the beach was deserted. I could choose anywhere along the road to stop. I arbitrarily picked a spot, parked my car, and trudged over the dune and down a path. As I sat on my towel, my gaze searched the untroubled sea and cloudless sky.

Picking up a seashell I started dragging it along the sand in a wide arc about me. “Father God,” I murmured, recalling a verse from the psalms, “Your thoughts to me are precious and… they’re more in number than the sand.” I swallowed hard. “I need You.”

As the shell in my hand dug into the sand, it struck something hard. I glimpsed a bit of white. Sweeping away the sand with my fingers, a little plastic figure emerged. I picked it up. When I realized what it was, a shock of surprise and joy hit me.

Had some child brought his toy farm animals to the beach last summer, leaving this behind? And if so, what were the odds that out of four miles of beach I picked this dune to walk down, and this spot on which to sit? Or had a loving Creator planted it, a special gift, in the sand where I sat?

For in my hand was the figure of a lamb, a message from God to me.

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