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What would it be like to get so close to God that we could see ourselves in His eyeballs? What if we could see our images reflected there because we were so close to him? Chonda Pierce wants to get close enough to God to see herself as God sees her. But to move closer to God, we first have to see him. In this audio book, Chonda, with her usual southern humor, tries to open her own eyes and the eyes of the listener wide enough to see God. Where is God when her husband gets a speeding ticket, when her daughter wrecks her grandfather’s truck, when there’s a tragic plane crash, or when she’s driving down the road in a Chevette held together by wire hangers? Come along and laugh along with Chonda as she tries to catch God at work in the most unlikely places.
|Edition description:||2 Cassettes|
|Product dimensions:||4.15(w) x 6.79(h) x 0.75(d)|
|Age Range:||16 Years|
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Momma Takes New York
"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse."
Romans 1: 20
Sometimes when I'm traveling to a place I know my momma would love to see, like New York, I take her along. Some of you may know Momma. She's been in my videos, and she's traveled with me on the road. But for those of you who don't know her, she's about five feet tall, born and raised in central Kentucky, graduated from Oddville High School, and traveled as far as Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Not until she hooked up to cable TV in the late '80s did she catch a glimpse of other parts of the world. So when the opportunity came to travel to New York with me, she rushed right out to Wal-Mart and bought one of those suitcases with a pullout handle and rollers so she wouldn't "slow us down."
Momma finds such joy in simple things--like the woman working the little market in the airport. Mom said she was going for some gum, so I sat at the gate and waited ... and waited ... and waited. Finally I grabbed our carry-on luggage and went to find her. She was in the little market chewing gum and chatting with the cashier. I signaled for her to come over to me, and she made a few small steps my way, but not before waving to her new friend and saying, "I'll be praying for your niece, now."
"What was that all about?" I asked.
"Oh, you mean Margaret?" She pointed to the little woman behind the gum counter. "She's the nicest young lady. She told me all about her sister and her husband, who just got laid off from his computer programming job, but he's really, really good and hopes he has another job lined up this weekend. Her sister's doing okay, too, cleaning houses and working part-time at the grocery store. But their daughter, her niece, wants to get a tattoo. Oh, my." Mother just shook her head. "You help me pray for that family too, Chonda." I nodded and tugged Mom toward the gate.
We had to change planes in Newark, New Jersey, another place Mother had never been. "I can't believe I'm here in Newark," she sang. "Any famous people from Newark? I wonder what sort of restaurants they have in Newark. Now what state is Newark in?"
"We're in New Jersey, Mom," I said. "Just across the river from New York City."
Her eyes lit up.
"I'm going to buy a cup of coffee, Mom," I said. "While I'm gone, you can look out that window over there," and I pointed. "I think you can see the New York City skyline."
I must have been gone a good fifteen minutes because I couldn't find the French vanilla cream I wanted for my coffee. When I returned to the window, Mom was still there, pressed up against the glass. "Mom, can you see the city?"
Mom turned around slowly, tears streaming down her face. She dabbed at her eyes with her coat sleeve and sniffled as if she had a bad cold. "I can't believe this."
I knew I should have just gone with the regular cream. I shouldn't have left her for so long.
"What is it, Mother?"
"I just saw the Statue of Liberty," she said through tears. "I never thought I would live to see the Statue of Liberty. Oh, honey, thank you for bringing me along. God is so good to me, so faithful. This is the best day of my life!"
I gave her a napkin, draped my arm across her shoulders, and led her away from the glass. "Here, have some coffee."
She pushed away the cup. "No thanks, honey. I don't care for French vanilla."
I did a concert that night in Buffalo, New York, and introduced everyone to my mother. I even brought her up on the stage and gave her the microphone so she could say hello.
"I just love this state," she started. "You have so much to be proud of. Buffalo is the most gorgeous city I have ever seen. I never thought I would ever be here, in New York. This is a dream come true. This is really a gorgeous city. But, oh my, it's so cold here. It worries me a little bit because y'all might not think hell looks so bad when it's this cold, but I am glad Chonda brought me here. This is the best night of my life. I'll never ever forget--" I grabbed the microphone. But the audience loved my mother and gave her a standing ovation.
The next day, I was scheduled to drive over to Toronto to tape a television show, which I thought would be too grueling for Mom. But when I stepped out of the shower bright and early the next morning, she was up.
"Mom, why don't you sleep in?" I said. "Take it easy."
"Are you kidding?" she said. "Bonnie and Carol are meeting me in the lobby in a half hour to take me to Niagara Falls."
"Bonnie and Carol? But Mom, it's cold, and you have to get in and out of the car, and you were up late last night and--"
"It's Niagara Falls!" she said, almost scolding me. "You think I'm going to come this close to Niagara Falls and miss it?" She cinched up her coat and asked me to help her with the hood.
"Just don't get too close to the edge," I cautioned, pulling her furry hood down close to her eyes. For just a moment I thought about when I was a kid at my grandmother's house in Kentucky and Mom would bundle me up in fourteen layers of clothes so I wouldn't freeze when I went out sledding.
When I returned that night, I could tell Mom was back and already had eaten a good meal because of all the dishes stacked outside her door. She greeted my knock with, "Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're back. This is the greatest hotel. You push that little button on the telephone--the one with the picture of the knife and fork--and they bring you whatever you want to eat. And besides that, that little refrigerator over there is full of snacks--peanuts, chips, cold drinks. I think the church must have put them there. And downstairs is a beauty shop that fixed my hair better than I believe it's ever been fixed. And they won't take any money, either."
"Oh no, honey. They just ask for my room number. Isn't that nice?"
I nodded and smiled, hoping she could see that her happiness made me happy too. "How was Niagara Falls?"