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God of Second Chances

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. Romans 12: 2


The alarm to wake me for my flight home sounded way too early. As had been the case every night of the ministry trip, the previous evening had been full of God’s miracle working power. He always showed up! Now, if He would just send an angel to help me finish packing.


Even after thirty-five years of traveling and serving God’s people, packing light remained a challenge. Especially when forcing the essentials for a ten-day trip into a twenty-one inch, rolling suitcase. I’d boiled the process down to a science, a routine, giving each item a dedicated space. Still, angelic help was always welcome. My cosmetics bag and heavy items went in the bottom—packed in the wheel end, so my clothes remained wrinkle free. The last pieces to go in were my favorite outfit—red heels and red beaded jacket with gold strands woven through the cloth, sandwiched between a non-wrinkle black top and black slacks.


Coming home was always the best part. My husband, now retired, had a big pot of chili simmering on the stove. He had never wavered in his promise to support God’s purpose in my life, even when doing so meant sitting on top of my overflowing suitcase, so I could zip it shut. Although he preferred to have me home with him, each time he’d send me off with “Have a good trip, I’ll be here manning the fort while you’re gone.”


A Dose of Doubt


After a long trip, I would have lunch with my girlfriends and catch up on the latest news. It was our touchstone—the one constant that we did—we would be there waiting for each other. These times were filled with laughter, as we regaled each other with stories of husbands, kids, and grandkids.


But this time was different. When I shared, as I usually did, a few experiences from my most recent trip, I could see that several of the gals quickly glanced at each other. As

our food arrived, so did the questions. “JoAnne, are you going to stop traveling now that your husband is retired?” All eyes turned toward me.


“Now that Ray has retired, don't you think it is time for you to spend time with him” instead of flying all over the globe?” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out I was on the lunch menu. And I wasn't dessert. “I believe God will let me know when it’s time to stop,” I said, sounding much louder than necessary and much bolder than I felt. My friends stared back at me, eyebrows raised.


“You know, girls, I still love traveling and doing God’s work. I like sharing a new truth from scripture. I don't even mind the challenge of closing my over-stuffed roller bag without breaking the zipper.” Surely that would get a laugh, I thought.


Silence.


“And if I can sit in a middle seat on a ten-hour flight, then walk off the plane with a smile, that’s a sign of God’s grace, don’t you think?”


Mary Jane reached over and patted my hand. “Well, just remember, none of us are irreplaceable. Many young women are anxiously waiting to take your place.”


Goodbye hugs and pats on the back were laced with more comments. We only want you to consider that maybe it’s time for you to retire.


Sitting alone at the table, I felt like I’d been in a hit and run accident. The driver had left dents in my identity, then rather than anonymously leaving the accident scene, had also left notes of discouragement. Those judgmental words created a vacuum in my mind, which was quickly filled with doubt and uncertainty.


You’re too old, the voices said.

You’ve lost your zip, they continued.

You need to retire. It’s unfair to your husband.

The critical voices won.


“Okay, I quit. I’ll lay it all down. Maybe it is time to enjoy retirement with Ray?” "He and I can go on trips together to see places we've always talked about." Now I’m not saying I knew what a good wife would do, but it was obvious to me that my friends felt that this should be my next step, It was the expected way to move into my golden years.


In order to maintain the momentum to move forward in this unwanted, yet looming lifestyle change, I began to purge my wardrobe of every piece of clothing that represented conference speaking and ministry travel. With that behind me, the only clothes I would need in Alaska were hoodies, jeans and hiking boots. Now that’s a fact! I feared if I didn’t act fast, I’d back down from my decision. It should’ve been a big clue as to who was running this show. It certainly was not Holy Spirit inspired.


Instead of stepping back and talking to the Lord, I pushed forward. I downgraded my conference suits, bling jewelry, and brightly colored high heels, placing them in a big black garbage bag.


Finally, my favorite red jacket hung alone. You know, the one I always packed in my overstuffed suitcase. The gold threads and sequins woven throughout the fabric were alive with rich memories of new friendships and amazing encounters with the Holy Spirit. Miraculous testimonies of healed and altered lives flooded my heart. Sighing deeply, I gently folded and placed it in the already packed full black plastic bag.


After donating yesterday’s memories at the local second-hand store. I pulled into an empty lot across the street and wept. Deep waves of sadness washed over me, leaving me drenched with regret.


What now?” I thought.


The God of Second Chances


After days of inner turmoil, the Holy Spirit convinced me to focus my attention on who He says I am, not on who my friends said I should be.


Although my friends were doing what they thought was right, unknowingly they were actually questioning God’s divine plan for me. And my agreement with their words had changed the course of my life. This was between God and I. I KNEW the assignment that he had given me. And I had allowed myself to listen to other voices instead of heeding the Holy Spirit. Only God could help me undo this mistake.


I prayed. I repented. The word repentance is a well-used word in Christian circles. But what does it really mean? To me, it’s that magical moment when a sliver of light pierces that place of darkness in my heart and I can see clearly my wrong way of thinking.


Lord, thank you for loving me in spite of my weakness. Forgive me for taking my future into my own hands. Thank You for the gifts and assignments You have entrusted to me.


Within days, my friend Renee stopped by for a cup of coffee. She was one of my favorites. She had an eye for good vintage clothing and jewelry, and I loved seeing what treasure she was wearing.


“It was incredible,” she said after greeting me. “I walked over to this rack of clothes in the back of my favorite consignment store and I felt surrounded with God’s presence.”

“You’ll never believe what happened next. Your name JoAnne…JoAnne flashed like a neon sign over this one spot.”


Renee then handed me a brown paper bag. “God said this is for you.”

I slipped my hand inside the bag, touching the familiar, woven texture of thick gold threads and smooth beads.


My favorite red beaded jacket, that I’d carelessly dropped off at a store in a different city over twenty miles away, had been found and returned to me. It was a miracle. A Kairos time. A God moment when time stood still. “God, what does this mean?” I asked, between sobs and squeals of joy.


Jo (that’s what the Holy Spirit calls me), your work isn’t finished, until I say it’s finished, said the still small voice inside me.


My red jacket didn’t possess supernatural powers. It simply symbolized the anointing; the mantle God had placed upon my life. He used this situation to remind me of the many assignments and responsibilities I had yet to fulfill. Now years later, draped over a chair in my office, that well-worn red jacket is a continual reminder of my unique purpose and eternal destiny in the Kingdom of God.

How about you? Do you have a red jacket story? We are all called to serve God in some way,


Have you laid down your God assignments?


Sometimes God allows our journey to be difficult and filled with opportunities to quit. Sadly, when confronted with major roadblocks, some only follow Christ to the point of inconvenience. Many, like me, lay down their mantles. Some are deceived into thinking they are too old, too young, or not good enough. Others listen to the advice of well-meaning friends and step outside of God’s timing. While still others quit because pushing through seems too hard. The big question is—are you willing to pick up your mantle again?


Author and teacher Watchman Nee said, “Anyone who serves God will discover sooner or later that the great hindrance to his work is not others but himself.”[1]



It’s never too late to start over with God. He’s a God of second chances.


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