A favorite story from my childhood. My dad was in Bible college, my mom working, and the money was tight. One night, my mom was in tears because there was nothing to cook for supper. Dad said we should pray, so we went into the living room to do that. And as we were praying, there was a knock on the door, lots of voices and laughter. Friends had gathered earlier in the day, feeling compelled to help us. They brought boxes, bags, and pots of food. Filled our refrigerator and our cupboards, and they had also brought food for all of us to enjoy.
I will never forget the amazement I felt, as a five-year-old, watching God answer our prayers before we had even begun to pray. And we have tried to pay it forward whenever we could.
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