Witchcraft

Yesterday I bought a package of sea salt. The cashier and I were talking about the how her day was going; following that, we discussed the tedious task of couponing (which I fail to do); and then she picked up the sea salt from the conveyor belt. She said that sea salt is great for cooking but also good for witchcraft. I thought I misheard her but then she repeated it.

“When you feel an evil spirit in your presence, people believe you can sprinkle sea salt around your room and the evil spirit will go away. That’s witchcraft. I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing but it’s happened to me before. I get scared so I sprinkle the sea salt around my room.”

I don’t know if I was simply in shock (because I’ve never encountered someone who believes in witchcraft) or if I was… no, I was just in shock.

“Yeah, I gotta be honest with you. I don’t believe in witchcraft. I believe in Jesus.”

I wish I had said more. I wish that I had doused her in the “living and active Word of God, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12).

But all I could say, “I believe in Jesus.”

I wish I had said that “the Lord is my strength and my defense” (Exodus 15:2). The Father is the One I run to when I’m afraid.

I wish I had said that “even the demons believe that God is the one true God - and they shudder at His name” (James 2:19). Demons are real but God defeats them, not sea salt.

I wish (and I’m aiming for this) that God’s Word was so deeply ingrained in my spirit that I would be able to say these things to her.

But instead I simply say, “I believe in Jesus.”

Today, my prayer is that “I believe in Jesus” was enough. That somehow God would use my simple, not-thought-out-enough statement to penetrate her heart. That somehow, through the power of the Holy Spirit, she heard me say something a lot more life-changing and pertinent than the real words that came out of my mouth. 

While I don’t feel like it was enough, I believe that God can make it enough. I’m clinging to that hope.

I’ve been praying for opportunities to share the Gospel with people. It’s a simple prayer with pure intentions but I forget just how powerfully God can use that prayer to draw others into Him. And my confession to y’all is that I also forget to pray that God will couple those opportunities with the words to share the Gospel with the people He places in my path. I pray for opportunities, but I fail to pray for the wisdom in how to act in those opportunities. Today my prayer is changing. 

October 1: New Book. Must Read!

As JD drove away from the hotel, we blew each other kisses and waved at each other until he was no longer in sight. Since this is a daily routine of ours, it threw me off a bit when the security guard looked at me and smiled as I crossed the sidewalk.

“I bet he really appreciates you blowing him kisses like that on his way to work. That probably made his day,” said the tall, jolly security guard. To emphasize my shock at his adoring comment, I must acknowledge that he resembled "the tough guy" from the Zaxby's commercial like you wouldn't believe...

Every couple has the sweet, quirky thing they do. We tell each other "I love you" non-stop and we always make it a point to "kiss each other with a thooouuusand kisses" daily.

I’ve always thought that Hawaii was a state for lovers. Even at the shark adventure yesterday, the cameraman said he had never seen a couple kiss underwater with their snorkels on... with the sharks watching. That baffled me. Haven't any newlyweds ever tried this... or were they too smart to do something crazy like swim with sharks on their honeymoon?

With postcards in hand, I walked to the Post Office in one of the towers to send our “Aloha’s” to our family and to send a postcard back to ourselves. I spent most of the day pool hopping (sun bathing at one pool then switching to another). During lunch, I started reading Same Different As Me. Yeah. I had to stop reading because I started crying.

So I walked to the Tapa Pool and started reading again, tears straining down my face.

Fortunately, I was wearing my sunglasses.

I just couldn’t bare it any longer. I walked up to our room with fear that someone had thought I was truly upset.

On the contrary, God was breaking me down through the written words of Texans I don’t even know.

I sat in a chair on our balcony and literally

wept

as I turned the pages. Every once and a while I would get up to change Kleenexes and to try to regain composure, although I consistently broke down again as I started reading.

Close to finishing the book, JD called and said he was on his way back home. He picked up some dinner for me at Outback. Later he told me how flustered he was about the traffic, as this particular Outback only had take-out… not curbside takeout. You would've thought JD was a celebrity, the way everyone was honking their horns at him in frustration.

I had to put down the book because there is no better distraction than having my sweet husband home (in the hotel). Took note that I must finish it tomorrow.