Through our fear, we wait for Jesus to come

Through our fear, we wait for Jesus to come

Story and Verse: This is the third in a Thanksgiving-to-Epiphany series.


MRS. CRAWFORD WILL FOREVER be remembered for her story of praying, waiting, and trusting in the Lord.
 
“Her roof leaked all over except in the living room,” says the Rev. Harry Howe, “and this is where she would go when the storm clouds gathered.”
 
Mrs. Crawford sat in her rocker in the living room and cried because “she was afraid the roof would fall in on her.” But she kept praying and waiting for help. Finally, her prayers were answered by the mission team that came and repaired her home.  
 
Howe was the construction missionary who led the team to Mrs. Crawford’s house in Saltville, Virginia. He later wrote this poem about her.
 
“This poem captures the essence of what being in service in mission is all about,” he says. “The presence of Jesus becomes real, transforming the lives those served as well as those who serve in his name.”
 
At the conclusion of a difficult year, many of us are waiting in despair for better days, fearing the roof will fall in on all that we know.
 
May prayer and the hope of Advent sustain you as you wait for the birth of Jesus.

 

She Sits Alone

She sits alone in her rocker
    And a tear falls from her eye
As she looks outside her window
    And the storm clouds fill the sky
 
You see her roof has leaked for years
    And each rain now takes its toll
And she’s prayed for a helping hand
    But has yet to see a soul
 
This is the day she’s on her way
    To the doctor up in town
She is feeble, her porch is weak
    She’s afraid that she’ll fall down
 
Where are you Lord? When needed most
    I need you here, I do pray
Don’t you have a faithful servant?
    You could surely send my way?
 
As she dozes in her rocker
    There’s a knock upon her door
“I can see your roof needs fixing”
    He went to work, said no more
 
“And your porch, it needs rebuilding
    With new steps and rail secure”
Then she set about the task
    “Who’s these strangers?” she’s not sure
 
She sits alone in her rocker
    And a tear falls from her eye
As she looks outside her window
    And the sunlight fills the sky
 
For she met some humble servants
    Who asked nothing as repay
She knew these faithful strangers
    Were the Lord that came her way
 
She sits alone in her rocker
    And no tear falls from her eye
As she looks outside her window
    And the storm clouds fill the sky

-- Harry Howe


Coming next week: Ring the Dormant Bell
 

Author

Annette Spence

Annette Spence is editor of The Call, the Holston Conference newspaper.