I remember when I first saw <– this image and how I resonated with it. Not only was I a hairdresser at the time, but also a firm believer that God exists, and a needy person at that! I messed up many haircuts in my earlier days, and then would find myself praying, with all of my might, that God protect from the wrath of those customers! I got better at the craft with time and by committing a handful of those chop-jobs that taught me what not to do! But then, of course, being a needy person, I got better also at requiring assistance of the Divine kind, and obtaining it!
I was moving one day, from Flemington, NJ, to Lincoln Park, NJ., but first had to put in my usual 10 hours of work at the salon that day. My ex-hubby was the Mover, while I worked; he and a couple of guys transported all the furniture, appliances, and countless boxes, I had packed, to the new house. My participation would be that I would return to the former residence after work and “clean” the place. I’ve always had this belief that when a house or apartment is rented to you, in pristine manner, you should return it the same way. When I returned to the house, I had wished that I hadn’t had that line of thinking! Dear Lord, did I need assistance of the divine kind!
The Duplex had four floors, when you count the basement too! Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, a sun room, and a laundry room with storage, down below. For the most part, the Ex had emptied out every room, and all that was left for me to do was sweep and mop the floors, vacuum the carpets, and wipe down the kitchen and bathrooms. I had decided to start from the 3rd floor, and work my way down and out the door! But first, I had to go to the basement to get the vacuum cleaner, the broom, the mop and pail, and hauled butt up the stairs with these things in tow. However, when I walked into the master bedroom, I thought it’d been converted into to a junk yard, by my EX! Smack-in-the-middle of the room, was this pile of garbage in the shape of a vast pyramid! I couldn’t believe my eyes; it almost caused me to stop breathing!
“Why would he do this to me!” I murmur; but then opted to remember gratitude and the fact that the ex did work to clear out the big house. I quickly went and got trash bags, and came back and started the task of filling them with the array of stuff, we weren’t taking with us. With each room that I vacuumed, and swept, mopped, and dusted, I was growing increasingly tired. Don’t forget: I had already put 10 hours in at work, on my feet, all day long! By the time that I made it to the sun-room, which we could say was an enclosed front porch, I worried that I would pass out, from lack of strength.
I was sweeping that floor, accessing that perhaps I could get away with not mopping it, too, as it didn’t seem soiled to me, and directed the bit of dusty particles toward the entry way. That house’s screen door was a, butt smacker. When you opened it to come inside, you best make sure that you leap quickly into the house, or get trapped and slapped on the rear-end by that heavy door! It wouldn’t close… slowly… so that you can make it inward safely; instead, it would forcibly shut on your backside, pin you, and knock you forward.
That day, I had to use my backside to hold it open, as I swept the dusty particles out of the porch and onto the front steps. But, suddenly, it felt to me as if someone had come along and gently held it open for me. I looked behind me and saw no one there, and even slightly tested the door by lightly moving away from it and watching what happens. The door remained wide open, as if being held that way for me, by a true Gent, while I continue to sweep the steps and collect the particles into the dustpan. I filled the dustpan, and went and emptied it in the outdoor trash bin, and came back, noticing the door still open. I climbed the few steps and quickly stepped inside, being the creature of habit, that I am, after all.
In utter amazement, I stood there and watched as this, previously mean, screen door slowly closed itself. In slow motion, quietly and unobstructed, it closed itself and then clicked when shut. Now, that was GOD; that was assistance of the divine kind! Listen, either it was God or an angel, or that door had the living presence-of-mind to behave, in such a courtly manner, on its own, as a way to play tricks with my mind! For, no matter how far back you opened that door, and applied its “stopper” to keep it open, the hardware was broken and the door itself was a ass-slapper! Someone or something held that door open for me that evening! Of course, being the “Jesus freak,” I’ve always been accused of being, I said, “Thank you, Lord,” and accepted, as well, that HE had stepped inside with me, for I sensed that I was not alone!
Before I left the old house, I gave every room another once-over, to ensure that I’d leave nothing there, ruinous of my reputation as tenant. Then went next door, returned the key to the landlord, bid him my farewell, and moved on…to experience many more of these types of assistance, of the divine kind…
Assistance, of the divine kind, continues its work on this side of heaven. Many are the persons that don’t believe it, and they set out to explain away the mysteries by replacing them with science or utter nonsense. But be, of the open mind, and see Assistance, of the Divine Kind, bless you, fully.