O Lord, you have examined my heart
and know everything about me.
You know when I sit down or stand up.
You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
You see me when I travel
and when I rest at home.
You know everything I do.
You know what I am going to say
even before I say it, Lord.
You go before me and follow me.
You place your hand of blessing on my head.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too great for me to understand!
Yesterday was a great day. I spent a few hours meeting with our ministry team to get ready for the new semester. Later I met an old friend for dinner at the Mall of Asia. This friend is a seminary professor that comes here to teach once a year—it was good to catch up with him.
These two (planned) events where fruitful, but God had something even better in store for me before the night ended:
I got a taxi after dinner to head home. The driver said I had ridden with him before. I initially thought I misunderstood him or been mistaken for another American passenger. I suppose there are hundreds (if not thousands) of taxi drivers, and it seemed unlikely I would have the same one twice. But he accurately recalled a trip I took across town a couple of months ago. He was right—he was my driver when I went to visit Thess (a good friend and fellow blogger).
The driver asked questions about my work and life, which led to a spiritual discussion. He told me he was searching for the truth, but wasn’t sure who he could trust to guide him. By this point we were running out of time, so I shared the gospel as clearly (and quickly) as possible. He listened intently as I talked about the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice to fully pay for our sins. I explained that God only requires genuine faith and repentance—nothing more, nothing less.
Our journey came to an end before either of us was ready. We didn’t have any way to exchange contact information (I didn’t have my business cards with me, and he didn’t have his cell phone with him). I asked him to get his teenage child to look for this blog—that was the only way I could think of to keep in touch.
I pondered the night’s events once I arrived home. What are the odds that I would meet the same driver twice at two completely random locations? How did he happen by that spot at the exact time/place I was looking for a taxi?
I often speak of “divine appointments”—those times when God puts us directly in the path of someone searching for Him. I’m amazed at the way He does this. Do you ask God for divine appointments? If not, maybe you should start.
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