I am in the process of reading, re-reading, and editing my book.  I’m really hoping to have it out by the end of this year.  Along with it, I’m trying to compile 365 of my WMD’s and put them in a book as well.  We will see how it goes.  For WMD this morning, I thought I would copy and paste an excerpt from the book.  It is a story that I tell quite often.

The Ten Dollars

I have to include this story in this book.  I hate that it highlights my disobedience, but I love that it teaches us that, even in our failure and disobedience, God can still more than complete His purposes.

I was a bus driver at Tamassee-Salem High School in Salem, SC.  It was my afternoon route and I was about to drop off my last kid.  In my mind, I clearly out of nowhere heard God say, “Give him the ten dollars.”  I knew exactly what He was talking about.  That particular morning I had found a perfectly laundered ten dollar bill in the back pocket of my jeans.  It just so happened to be Friday and I was in super high spirits.

Looking back, I honestly had no problem giving him the ten dollars.  Unfortunately, my mind immediately went to the consequences of my actions.  I pictured the parents asking him where he got the money.  If he said, “my bus driver,” I thought they might think I was some creep luring him for some sort of sexual favors or something.  The demons must have been working overtime because by the time his stop came, I had made my mind up that I just couldn’t give it to him.  He got off the bus.  I reasoned that it wasn’t God talking, it was just my own mind.  Please tell me that you know what I’m talking about!

Anyway, I didn’t think about it again all weekend.  Monday came and I simply asked him, “How was your weekend?”

“Terrible,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, my dad had given me ten dollars to go to Gattitown (think Chuck-e-Cheese).  The youth group was going there on Saturday.  I still got to go, but dad needed the money that morning to buy gas for his truck.  It kind of sucked being there without any money.”

I felt two centimeters tall.  I left and went to be alone with God.  “I’m so sorry, Lord.  I’m so sorry,” was all I could say as tears literally streamed down my face.  I collected myself, went to my truck, got out my wallet, and pulled out a twenty.  I went and pulled the kid out of class.

“Man, I just want you to know that God was looking out for you.  He asked me Friday to give you a ten-dollar bill that I didn’t even know existed because it got washed in the laundry.  I disobeyed because I thought your parents would think I was a predator or something.  It is my fault you had to go with the youth group with no money to have fun with.  God did not ask me to do this, but here is twice as much money as He asked me to give you.  Please forgive me.  God is good, but me . . . not so much.”

All he said was, “That is so cool that God was looking out for me.”  That was on a Monday.  Thursday, he came in and told me that he had walked to the church near his house and attended the Wednesday evening service.  He gave his heart and life to the Lord.  Today, he is a college graduate and I see him as my own son and one of my best friends.

Yes, God knows how to work despite our disobedience.  His ways are simply not our ways.  He is holy.  He is mighty.  He is so wonderful!