[Faith-talk] Good Night Message for Monday, February 11, 2013

[Paul]

Well, for us in the Americas it's that time again, time to think about preparing to retire for the night, although it's a bit early right now, especially if you live in the mountain and Pacific time zones.  Anyway I hope that your day went well and, for those of you in other parts of the world, I pray that your mornings or afternoons are going well.

Neither the author nor the source of today's article are given in this story as found in an issue of the Gospel Messenger, but I hope that you like it.  The story begins with part of a sentence, and then the actual quoted title will be rewritten here.  It begins with:  Some chance encounters aren't chance at all.  They are meant to be, and leave you forever changed.  "A Love story," is rendered as follows:

There was something about Eddie Benton.

For a 20-year-old girl in 1944, New York City was the most exciting place on earth.  One of my favorite spots was the roller rink near where I lived with my parents in Brooklyn.  I went there several evenings a week.  I hurried home from my job in Manhattan, had a quick supper, and changed into my skating outfit.  I couldn't wait to glide out onto the polished wood floor.  The organ music inspired me.  I felt like something magical was waiting to happen.

One night the lights were down, the organ played a waltz, and the announcer said, "Couples' dance."

Someone behind me whispered, "Will you skate with me?" He was a handsome young soldier:  crew cut, big smile, and eyes that sparkled.  "My name's Eddie Benson," he said.  I put out my hand, and we rolled into the rink in perfect time to the music.

Eddie skated very well, and he talked even better.  He was happy to be a soldier, he said, happy with his life.  I liked him.  He had a kind of enthusiasm I'd never known before.  "I'm stationed in Brooklyn," he said at evening's end.  "May I escort you home?"

I was glad for his company.  We took the subway, and when we arrived at my door, he asked if he could see me again.  "Maybe you could show me around the city," he said.  I happily agreed.

Eddie and I strolled through Central Park and rode the carousel.  We went to the top of the Empire State Building and took the Staten Island Ferry out into New York Harbor.  Eddie saluted as we sailed past the Statue of Liberty.  "That's what we're fighting for," he said, his eyes brightening.  There was that enthusiasm again.  Eddie inspired me, just like the organ music at the roller rink.  He made me feel like life had something wonderful in store for me.  Something I couldn't yet begin to imagine.  Eddie was special.  That's all there was to it.

We couldn't wait to get together every evening and weekends.  But the time ended too soon.  Eddie was transferred to a camp in Little Rock, Arkansas.  What would I possibly do without him?

Soon after he left, a letter came, inviting me to visit for the weekend.  "A lady from church has a room for you," he wrote.  "Please come." Well, it wasn't a room, I discovered upon my arrival.  Only an alcove under her staircase with a single bed.  But no matter.  Eddie and I would spend two glorious days together.

That evening Eddie took me to church.  He caught me off guard.  I was afraid to tell him I wasn't a believer.  I sat down next to him, but I felt like a big fake.  I should have told him right away.  Will Eddie ever forgive me? I fidgeted during the service.

"Anyone who wants to receive forgiveness, come forward," the preacher said.  Something made me stand up.  Eddie stood up with me and put his arm around my shoulder.  He looked at me, and in that moment I saw clearly the source of his enthusiasm.  There was no mistaking it.  It was love.  God's love.  And it was so strong, I felt it, too.  Eddie and I walked up together for the blessing.

Later that night Eddie told me he had a calling to the ministry, and he hoped I would share it.  "I guess I'd better buy a Bible," I said.  Eddie took me in his arms.  We made plans to marry after the war.

Eddie was sent to Europe.  On Christmas Eve 1944, he was on the troopship S.S. Leopoldville off the coast of France.  The ship was torpedoed.  Eddie was among nearly 800 soldiers who died.

Life would be a struggle without Eddie.  But I knew his love wasn't gone from my life, because the source of his love was God.  I had found what I always felt was waiting for me.  I became a missionary, going to China and later to Japan, work I never could have imagined before I met Eddie.  I wanted to be an example of God's love for people everywhere.

After 12 years in Asia, I returned home and spent two decades as a social worker and counselor.  I reached out to as many people as I could.  My hope was the same every time, that God would enter their hearts with a message of love.  Just like God had done for Eddie and me.

So, there you have a love story in human terms that ended on divine terms.  I hope that you enjoyed reading it.

And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, throughout this night or day and especially in these last days in which we live.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul