About a week ago I started on the book Ten Prayers God Always Says Yes To. Despite the fact that I have to mentally edit the title to Ten Prayers to Which God Always Says Yes, I am enjoying this book.
Unlike my usual style, I am actually trying to read this book as slowly as possible, taking my time with each prayer. I did skip over the first one, God, show me that you exist, because I figured that I already know God exists, He knows that I know, and we don't need things like proof muddying up our relationship. At the moment I'm working on God, make me an instrument. So far my ministry seems to consist of loaning out my spare pencils to absentminded classmates.
God is funny, though. As C. S. Lewis would say, he's not a tame lion. He does exactly what He wants, exactly what He knows I need right at this moment.
A couple of funny things happened to me today. First, Fellow Layout Editor and I had a meeting with the head of the journalism department. (It went fine, thank you for asking.) Dr. Head Honcho was 5 minutes late to said meeting. While waiting, I read the literature pinned to his corkboard. One of these was a booklet listing journalism internships in Ohio. One of said internships happens to be with the "Polis Daily News". The application deadline is February. Left to my own devices I wouldn't have thought to pester them until March at the earliest.
Item two: I was supposed to attend a talk this evening at 7 in order to write an article on it for the paper. The fact that I am blogging instead of scribbling in my little green notebook probably gives you a clue that I'm not attending said talk. You see, I was in the chapel at 7. In fact, I was in the chapel at 6:45. At about 7:02 I checked the JC to see if perhaps the talk had been moved. None of the rooms had talks going on in them. I went back to the chapel. Still nobody there. I went back to my room to see if dementia is setting in early and I merely forgot the time of the talk. Nope.
I was then faced with 2 choices. 1: Cry. 2: Go back to the chapel and make sure the talk isn't perhaps merely late. At this point it was still only 7:10 or so.
So I trot myself down to the chapel, deciding that I am an enlightened modern woman (at least in some respects) and do not burst into tears at the slightest provocation.
A couple of little old ladies, a middle-aged couple, and a girl my own age are in the lobby. They are looking for the same talk. They are equally befuddled. (I might add, though, that they are not worried about their job security.) Finally one of the little old ladies asks for a cell phone, asks someone to dial it for her, and then talks to somebody named "Father Michael." (Whether it was the Father Michael or not I don't know, but few things surprise me anymore.) Father Michael informs her that the talk has been cancelled.
So, thanks to a little old lady with a cell phone, I can sleep tonight knowing that nobody's boss expects them to write an article on a nonexistent talk. Meanwhile I am going to wonder at the workings of God--given the string of "coincidences" going on I think He's trying to answer that prayer I didn't even pray.