A little over a week ago, I borrowed this book from a friend.
No, actually... my friend lent me this book.
Why do I fuss like that over the wording? The two sentences essentially mean the same thing, right? And I did ask my friend to recommend me a book out of her many books she's read for her seminary classes over the last couple years. She was happy to do so and lent me a couple of those to enjoy. But then, as though she was unsatisfied with the borrowed pair I was holding in my hands, she walked across the room over to her husband's pile in their basement study and grabbed this third book. He'd raved about it to her and she was planning on reading it soon. She thought I might like to read it first.
Now, I think there's a difference between the books I had meant to borrow and this third book, Courage and Calling by Gordon T. Smith. This third book was really what I needed to read...but neither my friend nor I could have known it. She didn't know where my heart had been that week...and I didn't know this book existed or that it would be so helpful at this particular time in my life.
I agreed to take it home, but wasn't sure I'd even crack it open. This was Friday.
Saturday night, Andrew and I talked for hours about my recent struggles and wrestled over what could be done to alleviate the situation for me. Sunday morning, the book must have caught my attention somehow because I started reading it and, after 5 pages or so, was completely stunned to find out it was speaking directly to the very issues I was having.
So, call me a mystic, but I firmly believe it was my Friend who lent me this book.