Meeting Tara

By Brenda W. McIntyre –

“Tara!” The vivacious student approached me with a hand full of fliers when someone called her name. “Hi!” she said, handing me a sheet.

I was moving into my dormitory at college. The flier was an invitation to visit the Baptist Student Union, which I had no desire to do. Religion was for people with nothing else to believe in. I had something to believe in—graduating from college. With a degree, I would be self-sufficient and never rely on anyone. Inside my room, I tossed the paper into the wastebasket.

Not long into the quarter I began slipping into a depression. I went to bed early one evening, going into a deep sleep. It felt like I was plummeting into an abyss, sinking deeper and deeper into a black void. I awoke when my roommate came in, but couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been dying. I became convinced I would die if I stayed at the dismal place, so I decided when the quarter was over I would pack my belongings and go home.

The same week I overheard a professor asking about a student who died. I didn’t know who it was or how it happened, but thinking about it kept me from sleep that night. Grasping for anything that might help, I got my roommate’s Bible. Clutching it throughout the night I prayed, “God, if You exist, please help me. Let me see my co-worker, Tammy, in the morning, and I’ll ask her for help.” I rarely saw her on campus, but I knew Tammy was a Christian.

Going to my first class, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Tammy was coming out of the building I was entering. I shivered from the chill running down my spine and asked if she would meet me after work.

That evening I learned it was a close friend of Tammy’s named Tara Lockhart who was killed by a drunk driver three days earlier. The funeral had been that day. Tammy was grieving the loss of her friend, yet she was reaching out to me.

Before the quarter was over I went to church with Tammy. One time was enough to spark something inside of me. Throughout Christmas break I anticipated returning to college. No longer did feelings of depression and imminent thoughts of death plague me. Instead I was filled with a desire to know God.

I returned to college and began attending church regularly. One Sunday after the service we were going back to campus. At a caution light Tammy said, “This is where Tara was in the accident that afternoon when leaving church.”

I was appalled. We hadn’t talked about Tara much. I didn’t know she attended the church where I was now a member. As weeks passed, I learned more about her and could imagine what she was like. I realized it was through Tara’s death that I was saved. I’m sure she prayed about leading others to Christ. It just happened to be in her death that she witnessed to me.

Although I went away to college feeling alone and uncertain of God’s existence, I now know I’m never alone. I will never be self-sufficient; I must rely on God to guide me every day, but I have something better than a college degree. God will supply all of my needs according to His riches in glory (Philippians 4:19). He knows my needs before I even ask Him (Matthew 6:8). And when I go home to meet my Maker, I know I will meet Tara also.

Just Like That

By Brenda W. McIntyre –

Haley’s seventh grade class was given an assignment to make a volcano. The middle school students were divided into groups and began to work on their projects. Haley’s group labored several afternoons, meeting after school to work on their volcano. Read more

Paid in Full

By Brenda W. McIntyre –

When our first child was born, we didn’t have health insurance. My husband had changed jobs and a new insurance policy did not cover the pre-existing condition of my pregnancy. In anticipation of our new arrival, we talked to my doctors about a payment plan and began pre-paying the hospital. Read more

Veronica’s Smile

By Brenda W. McIntyre –

Some days I wake up in the late morning hours feeling like my name should be changed to Israel. Those are the times I’ve spent sleepless nights wrestling with God. Not physically wrestling with Him as Jacob did in Genesis 32 when his name became Israel, but fighting an emotional battle. Read more

The Broken Unicorn

By Brenda W. McIntyre

Every child has a favorite thing they like, such as action figures or stuffed animals. Growing up, my preferred thing was unicorns. I had several unicorn collectibles on a shelf in my room. One day, for no particular reason, my daddy brought home a small green box with the picture of a unicorn on the front and back. Daddy was not the type to remember birthdays or spend time picking out Christmas presents. This gift wasn’t even wrapped. He simply said, “Here, you can have this.”

I could tell the box was previously opened. Reopening it, I pulled out something carelessly wrapped in tissue paper. Unwrapping the item revealed a three-inch tall unicorn atop an oval base, just as the pictures depicted. Tipping the mythical creature caused the lid on the base to open revealing a place for jewelry or other keepsakes. The only difference between the actual item and the images on the box was a crack down the side of the unicorn I held in my hand. I was filled with disappointment. Why had my daddy given me a broken gift? I wasn’t expecting anything, but receiving something damaged was an insult. I went to my room and cried. When I could shed no more tears, I placed the defective decoration on the shelf with my other unicorns.

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