A random act of provision

This morning my Bible study friends and I were wrapping up our breakfast meeting when we noticed that normally efficient Ella (our waitress) had not yet brought us our checks. “She’ll meet us at the register,” Jeanette speculated as we left our seats and headed toward the exit.

Sure enough, the three of us lined up by the register and Ella quickly approached. She seemed a bit at a loss for words.

“Ladies, someone took care of your check today,” she said.

We looked at each other in surprise.

“I don’t know if you know her or anything, but she said that I should tell you, ‘Jesus loves you,’” Ella explained.

We looked at each other with incredulous grins on our faces. “Wow! A random act of kindness for us?!” We were beaming—and quite thankful. “What a blessing!”

As we headed toward our vehicles, Jen and I said almost simultaneously, “Now to pay it forward!”

I thought that was the end of my little tale of random acts of kindness, but then I went home, where I picked up my copy of The 30-Day Praise Challenge by Becky Harling. Today’s journal question: “In what ways have you tangibly experienced the love of God?”

I laughed aloud. “OK, I get it,” I thought, remembering back to my mysterious breakfast provider and her message to us. “Jesus loves me!”

Sometimes He communicates the message pretty clearly! 

Impossible Provision

At the University of Minnesota, the common recruiting slogan of being a person rather than a number does not apply. We memorized our student identification number right away, and we wrote that on more forms than we ever wrote our names. It’s a huge school. And, relative to the number of students, not a lot of money is given away for scholastic purposes.

So when I discerned that God was leading me to the U of M rather than some of the other journalism schools that were courting me, I was not expecting a lot of financial offers. I received a small journalism scholarship from the U, along with some other scholarships through community-based competitions. My dad offered to cover my books each quarter (for which I was very grateful), but that was the only financial help I was getting from relatives.

My overall financial plan at that point in life consisted of working hard, trying to spend little, giving the first fruits to God (see Proverbs 3:9-10), and trusting that it would all work out.

Naturally, I took out some loans. I thought that was inevitable.

So when Tom Yeakley encouraged me to develop an Impossible List (see http://thebookoflifeblog.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-impossible-list.html) at the end of my sophomore year of college, it was a no-brainer to add “not going into further debt” to my list of things to pray for. I began both praying and believing.

Shortly before I left to serve at summer camp that spring, I had to check boxes for what financial aid I would accept for the following year. In faith, I checked the lines for the grants and one small loan, but I didn’t accept the loan that normally helped me pay my way. And it wasn’t because I thought my summer ministry salary would take care of things.

However, almost immediately, I started to see God supply. I received a fellowship I had never even heard of (and keep in mind that the U of M was not a place where finding financial assistance was necessarily easy). I received a larger journalism scholarship. My mom sent a check of “extra” funds she managed to scrape together.

I was amazed as I watched God do what I had previously deemed impossible.

The following summer I served at the same camp again and experienced one of my most unique examples of God’s provision. One day I was somewhere on the grounds when I was paged to take a phone call. It was rare for me to get a phone call at camp, so I was a little unsure what to expect when I picked up the phone in the office.

“Hello, this is Stephanie,” I said with more confidence than I felt.

“Hello, this is Dr. So-and-So from the University of Minnesota,” a man stated from the other end.

We dispensed a few pleasantries before he launched into the reason for his call.

“We’re wondering if you would apply for the (name withheld) Fellowship this year,” he said.

I was stunned. Remember: I’m a number, or so I feel. There are over 40,000 undergraduates at my college. Lots of people want this money. And he somehow tracked me down at a Bible camp in Michigan to offer me a financial gift.

“I didn’t apply for that because I no longer qualify,” I explained. “I dropped classical Greek, so that means I’m now going for a religious studies minor, rather than continuing with my double-major.”

“I realize that,” he said, “but we’d still like to give you this fellowship.”

“Even though I don’t qualify?” I clarified.

“Even though you technically don’t qualify,” he affirmed.

(Eighteen years later, I’m still a bit stunned.)

“I am truly honored,” I replied, “but I don’t feel I can accept it in good conscience. I’m sure someone else will really benefit from it.”

And he disappointedly ended the phone call.

Did I just turn down money from the U of M, I wondered as I headed back outside. It felt like one example of many that verified God as Provider.

Aaron and I married a month later, and I was set to graduate that December. One night in our apartment Aaron and I discussed our financial plan for upcoming months.

(Marrying this man gave me a much better understanding of budgets and financial planning than to simply work hard and spend little. Aaron is very gifted with money management.)

“Well, you could finish school in December,” he said.  “Or you could take classes during the spring so we can pay off your early student loans.”

“Please explain that to me,” I requested.

“You had those early loans from your first two years of school,” he explained. “Now you’re bringing in enough grants, fellowships and scholarships that we would actually be able to use those to pay off your early loans if you take classes in the spring.”

So I took classes like Contemporary Israeli Literature and the History of Minority in Media—things that interested me, but which hadn’t previously fit into my overall educational plan—and paid off my loans.

This girl who was heading into college with a paltry checking account and little promise of financial assistance got out of college debt-free!

Nothing is impossible with God.

I received a call from this University of Minnesota building 

that showed how easy it is for God to provide for His children. 

An Impossible Proposal

One Sunday when I was in junior high, our teacher attempted to teach us about Ephesians 5. When the whole concept of wives submitting to their husbands came up, my friend Jeff laughed aloud, “Like Steph would ever submit to a husband!”

To my shame, I sat up a little straighter in my seat. “That’s right,” I thought to myself. The concept of submission sure didn’t sound appealing to me.

The truth was that submission was actually scarier than it was unappealing. I grew up witnessing two tumultuous marriages up-close. With my mother married to an alcoholic the first time around, and an abuse survivor the second, submission looked pretty vulnerable.

I had a long way to go before even marriage would look like a good thing to me.

Fortunately, God was actively involved in my life.

I could tell you a long story about how God moved me toward the idea of marriage, how He healed my heart and gave me hope, how He taught me truth. And maybe I will share those stories someday. But today I’m going to focus on the little miracle God gave me in order to guide me to my husband.

I had lots of very close guy friends. I was even interested in dating some of them. But once they would start hinting around at something, my instinctive response was usually to bolt. I came up with some excuse to sabotage things.

By the time Tom Yeakley shared about the Impossible List (see http://thebookoflifeblog.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-impossible-list.html?spref=fb), I was ready to trust God with this area of my life. I wrote on my list, “That I would know the man I am to marry by the way he proposes to me.” And I actually wrote down a specific way he would propose!

Looking back, I am almost stunned by the boldness of that, but God is in the business of accomplishing the impossible, and He is patient with His children.

So I began praying this request in faith, and I continued to live my life in pursuit of Christ.

Shortly after writing my Impossible List, I left Minnesota to serve at a camp in Michigan. An old friend and mentor of mine, Aaron, had been attempting to recruit me for years. I finally agreed to serve there, knowing it was God’s plan for that summer. Aaron was the program director at the camp and became my supervisor as I helped lead the summer camp staff team.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that things were different between me and my old friend. And, true to Stephanie form, I was resistant. Aaron was one of the people I most respected in the world, and, in fact, I had been praying for his future wife for years, but I was uncomfortable with his attention (while also feeling drawn toward a different kind of relationship with him).

By the end of the summer, God and Aaron had their way, and we began to date. We had known each other for six years. Aaron returned to seminary in Chicago, and I returned to the University of Minnesota.

We were diligent in our long-distance relationship, and Aaron came to visit as often as he could.

One evening as we were enjoying each other’s presence I said something about how things seemed to feel so “right” between us. He responded, “Almost like predestination.” Then he quickly said, “Oh, that wasn’t very romantic!”

I said, “For me, that was just right!” This young woman who was so crazy-fearless in so many areas of life was terrified about marriage, so the idea that we were meant for each other was exactly what I wanted to hear.

But that also brought me to what I began to grapple with: is there really one person for me, or are the options wide open? Should I be praying this crazy prayer? I’m falling in love; what if he doesn’t propose in the way I’m praying?

I thought I had plenty of time.

That December, I traveled with my father to Peru. On the way back, I was going to have a layover in Chicago, so Aaron suggested I stay in Chicago with some female friends of his, and that we drive together to Minnesota for Christmas (our families lived about 30 minutes apart).

We made those plans.

On my first full day in Chicago, everything seemed blissful. I worked on things for the camp where we served while he was at work. When he returned to his apartment (he had a roommate--for those of you who are wondering about decency), he was actually taken aback when he saw me, saying I looked so beautiful.

We headed out to a nice supper. On the way there, my organized man began to tell me all his plans for the evening, including the fact that we were going to stop for fuel after supper (which was actually going to be his last-ditch phone call to ask my father for my hand in marriage, since he had not been successful in reaching him).

When we got to the restaurant, everything was delightful. We had a lovely meal. We enjoyed the atmosphere. The evening was going perfectly.

We headed back to his apartment, where I sat on the couch reading while he nervously did things around the apartment. Finally, he sat down on the opposite couch and exhaled loudly. He started a conversation, but I interrupted, “Wait – I just have a few paragraphs left and I will finish this book!”

“Well!” he said and headed out of the room again (not in a huff, but I can imagine the nervousness). He returned with his Bible. When he saw me close my book, he began reading. I named the reference. He turned to another page. I named that reference. We began to play a little game and I got them all right – including obscure passages in Numbers and Leviticus. I do memorize Scripture, but I assure you that I’m not that good! God’s hand was on our evening.

Then Aaron began reading a passage about a king and wine and things I did not recognize. I was stumped.

He worked his way across the room and was on his knees before me, finally having reached verse 10 of Proverbs 31 (you’ll have to check out the passage). He proceeded to read the verses about the virtuous woman, and began telling me all the ways that I was this woman, and that he had never met another like me.

I, in my insecurity, blocked him out, telling myself I should be the one saying nice things to him, etc. My thoughts were interrupted by Aaron’s words, “That is why I’m asking you, ‘Will you marry me?’”

I was stunned—totally unprepared. The thought had never crossed my mind that he would ask me anytime soon.

What did I do? I retreated to my thoughts once again. And then I said, “May I ask you a question?”

Yes, this analytical girl had the fleeting, silly idea of asking this man his thoughts on whether there was one person intended for me or whether I had free will in the matter. When I heard his shaky “yes…” and looked into his nervous face, I realized that this was probably not the time.

I got on my knees too and gave him a hug, calling out to God inwardly, “What do I do?” My heart wanted to say yes, but what about my impossible prayer request?

And then it hit me.

Before supper, Aaron had prayed, “Lord, be with us tonight in all that we do. Be at the center of everything. Guide us in any decisions we make. We want to glorify You with our whole lives.”

At the time, I had thought, “Wow – chicken or shrimp? He is sure being intense!” But now I knew!

I had been praying that I would know the man I was to marry by the way he would propose to me. So I would know we would have a Christ-centered marriage, I wanted him to pray with me about the decision before proposing—without ruining the surprise!

And that is exactly what Aaron Ziebarth had done.

So I put on that ring, Aaron asked if that meant “yes,” and the rest is history.

The Lord doesn't do this for everyone. He doesn’t need to. But for this wounded daughter of His, He knew the hairs on my head and the fears in my heart. So He did the impossible for me.

And, 18 good years later, I’m still so glad He did. 

Aaron and me in Michigan the summer we started dating.