Twyla was thirty minutes into her morning quiet time and it was going well. In recent days she had sensed a deepening desire to truly walk with God. To know His direction in her life, to be ready to go on His errands, to hear His voice when He spoke. As she came to the end of her worship she seemed to hear Him say, “Just listen, Twyla. I’m here; just listen.”
Late morning she jumped in the car and drove to the neighborhood market. She picked up a few items, put them in her basket, and headed for the checkout. While the girl was scanning the items, Twyla had the strangest sensation…it seemed she could hear the voice of God. Not audibly, but strong enough that she couldn’t ignore it. He seemed to be saying, “Tell the clerk I love her and not to have the abortion.”
“But I don’t know her, I don’t know anything about her…” Terrified, she reflected on the agreement she had made with God only a couple of hours earlier. She stepped around the end of the counter and quietly whispered in the clerk’s ear, “God loves you; don’t go through with the abortion.” Obviously taken aback, the clerk responded, “Paper or plastic?”
Twyla paid for her groceries and hurried out to the car. She sat in the parking lot a long time with tears running down her face. She was confused, embarrassed, not able to understand what had just happened.
The next morning Twyla went back to the market to pick up a couple of items she had forgotten. She was relieved to see that the clerk was not at the checkout. But as she walked toward the back of the store she spotted her, with a baseball cap on, stocking shelves. As Twyla approached, the clerk called out, “Lady, I want to thank you for what you said yesterday.” Then she poured out her story…
“I haven’t been home for nearly a year…my daddy is a pastor but he and my mom don’t even know where I am. My boyfriend doesn’t know I’m pregnant. I was just desperate and I had made an appointment for an abortion this afternoon. Because of what you said, I cancelled it.
“I didn’t know what else to do so reluctantly I called home. My mom and dad assured me God loved me and they loved me and they want me to come home that everything was going to be alright. Dad is sending me a bus ticket and I’ll be leaving soon. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Just listen, Twyla, I’m here;” God had said. “Just listen.”
By Don Jacobsen