God's Will

By David Looney

[Page 156]

     Pulling the rented truck away from the curb, I started our furniture on its way back to Texas. I had never really wanted to come to California in the first place. Well, I did and then I didn't. You see, I just couldn't be sure it was the Lord's will or not.

     It's true that the voice I heard that night in the bedroom of our Texas home saying "Go to California and to the inner city," did influence me some but then there were doors that seemed to close also. For example, shortly after arriving in San Francisco while preparing to cross the Golden Gate Bridge I discovered that I didn't have enough change to get through the toll booth. Immediately I wondered if I had made the right decision in coming West. Then there was the time while looking for my gold cuff links, an old sweat shirt of mine fell out onto the floor and there staring up at me was the faded word "Texas." I really took that as a sign.

     Red light. Felt some of the furniture shift as I came to an abrupt stop. California is too crowded and who wants to work in the inner city? It stinks down there. If the Lord had wanted me out here he would have made it clear somehow. Of course there were those neighbors of ours--always asking questions about Christianity but after a while they became a real bother. And then there was the problem of money. The few churches out here either already had preachers or couldn't pay what I needed to live on. A ministry in the city would mean working a secular job and you know how bad it can be working with unsaved people.

     Weaving across town toward the freeway can take forever in a truck this size. I know its the Lord's will that I go back home. Everything adds up--The toll booth, the sweat shirt, and I haven't heard that voice at night since first leaving Texas. Just cross Alameda Creek here and then catch the on-ramp south.

     As I drove up onto the bridge, there it was. I say "it" because at the time I didn't realize that the thing blocking both lanes of the road in front of me was a huge whale. Frantically, I screeched to a stop only a few yards from its open mouth and crunched the gears into reverse. Too late. It lurched forward and swallowed me and the entire truck load of furniture. Outside my windshield was now total darkness and a sickly smell filled the cab. (Even worse than the inner city.)

     It was a horrible experience. After 16 hours the rescue units were able to cut me out of the whale and the old truck and I even made network news that week. Somewhere I've still got the UPI pictures of the rescue. Everyone agreed that it was an incredible phenomenon.

     Well, I had been working in a shoe store in Del Rio, Texas for almost two years (15 per cent commission) when a Christian friend reminded me of the whale incident. He said that maybe it was God's way of telling me to stay in California! I must admit that the idea had never crossed my mind. But, no...it just couldn't be. The evidence was all against it. I mean what about the toll booth? And what about the sweat shirt falling on the floor?