Miracles by Terri Blackstock Page B

parking lot, and idled there for a moment. Then he remembered the rest of what her soul had said.
    â€œIf I win, he’ll see what I’m worth.”
    Was that why he’d heard the numbers? Because they were part of her spiritual need?
    Could winning the lottery really be someone’s spiritual need? Or was it just God’s way of giving him an insider’s tip?
    Eleven, six, fifty-seven.
    What was the jackpot this week? How would Sally feel about having to split it with him? Would she feel betrayed, or amazed? And what would his wife think? Would she accept the money when she was so opposed to the lottery, or would she understand that this new gift gave him vital information that he might as well use? Besides, being wealthy could give him more time to help others.
    Suddenly, his runaway thoughts screeched to a halt. What he’d heard had been vital information, all right, but he knew deep down that it was not so he could win the lottery. It was so he could win souls to Christ.
    He must be crazy. Either that, or Satan was trying to get in on the act. He closed his eyes and asked God for forgiveness.
    Maybe hunger and fatigue, when added to his stress, had been the lethal combination that had driven him to such foolishness. He didn’t need a lottery ticket anymore than Sally did. He needed food. Two visits to the diner, and he still hadn’t eaten. He and John had been too busy going from one place to another, like Paul and Silas, full of the good news and not enough time to tell everyone about it.
    We cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard. It was a quote he had seen when his Sunday school class studied Acts, and it had jumped out at him then. He’d been convicted that there was something wrong with Christians who could stop speaking about what they had seen and heard.
    But he was one of them. He’d felt bad about that for half a day, and then he’d gotten over it.
    Was this how the Lord was disciplining him? God had struck Paul blind to bring him around. Maybe Sam didn’t have so much to complain about.
    He started the car and decided to head back to the diner for the third time that day. Janie, the waitress, was still behind the counter, accommodating all her customers with the economy of motion of a seasoned waitress. Sam quietly took a table in the corner, away from anyone he could hear, and watched Janie as she waited on the last of the customers. He remembered what she’d said this morning about needing rest—or what her soul had said—and realized that something wasn’t right in her life. She had a need.
    When she’d finally finished with all those customers, she came back to his table. “Sam, I’m starting to think you have a crush on me. Coming in here three times in one day? Aren’t you married?”
    Sam chuckled. “Yep, I am. It’s been a weird day, Janie.”
    â€œAren’t you working today?”
    â€œI guess I’m taking the day off. I’m not feeling my best.”
    â€œI’m sorry. You’re not contagious, are you? I can’t afford to get sick.”
    He grinned. “If only I were.”
    She frowned. “Huh?”
    â€œNever mind.”
    She pulled out her menu pad. “Well, what’ll it be this time?”
    â€œA hamburger,” he said. “With everything. And how about taking a break and keeping me company while I eat it?”
    Her mouth dropped open. “What would your wife say?”
    â€œShe would agree that you look like you need a rest. For a few minutes, at least.”
    Her smile faded, and she looked down at him. He wondered if she realized that was what she needed. “Man, I sure could use a rest. Okay, Sam, I’ll be right back.”
    She came back in moments with his meal and a glass of her own iced tea and sat down across from him, gratefully sighing a breath of relief. “It has been some day in here.”
    â€œTell me about