Three Thirty Three

Roberta H. Para Sefchick
Prompton, Pennsylvania

If you are a non believer in God & Jesus, read this article below.
It is a reminder to us all just how strong our conection to God really
is & affirms that there definetly is a power greater than ourselves in
our universe.



When I was a little child, my dear mom would often talk to us about
how good God was. She would emphasize how great His love for us
in that He died upon the cross to save us. I remember many times my
mother explaining that Jesus was thirty-three years old when he died. She
would tell us that when we died, no matter how old we were at the time,
or what condition we were in, when we entered heaven, we would be at
Jesus' perfect age. This made a deep impression on me and I started the
habit of always saying, "Thank you, Lord," whenever I saw the number
thirty-three in honor of Jesus' great sacrifice.

My oldest son is a police officer, as is his wife, and they live quite a
distance away from us in the state of Virginia. I pray for them and for all
police officers every day. One night something happened. I had gone to
bed as normal and was sleeping peacefully when I heard my son, who
was well over a hundred miles away, urgently calling out to me, "Mom!
Mom!"

I bolted upright in bed and said "What, Joe?" The voice was so real
and sounded in such peril that my heart started pounding so hard I felt
it would burst through my chest. I knew that my son was in danger and
needed help. I looked at the clock. It said 3:33 in the morning. I started
praying for him immediately, repeating the prayer, "Jesus, I trust in Thee,
Jesus I trust in Thee," over and over until eventually I felt calm enough
to drift back to sleep.

The next morning I continued praying for him as I moved about the
house doing all the daily things that needed to be done. I would remember
again and again his calling out in the night and my heart would quicken
and I would renew my fervency in prayer for him.

Later in the day, my son called. He spoke to his dad for a long time.
I had told my husband what had happened during that night but he did not seemed that concerned. Now listening to their conversation, I could
feel that he too had become convinced that my experience was real. They
talked quite intently for some time and I could see that he was shaken.
I anxiously waited for my turn while my husband kept holding up one
finger as if to say "Wait one minute, wait one minute." Finally, he handed
the phone to me.

It was such a relief to hear my son's voice. He quickly assured me,
"Mom, I am all right…but…while I was on duty last night someone I
had stopped for a violation shot at me…. He missed."

I cannot describe to you the flood of gratitude and relief that I felt.
All I could reply was, "Oh, thank you, Lord!"

He told me more of the incident, what had happened, where he was,
and many of the details that he was allowed to share.

Then I asked, "What time did it happen, Joe?"

He replied, "About three thirty in the morning."

I think I expected this answer, even before he opened his mouth, but at
his words a huge emotion of thankfulness to God arose within me. Every
fiber of my being was drenched with gratitude. Our Lord had truly woken
me up to pray for my son's safety, and I will forever thank Him.

As soon as the call was over I went into my bedroom and got down
on my knees to thank God, over and over. Even now as I write this, every
emotion of fear, gratitude and thankfulness to God comes back. I tell
others that we are often given clues of when to think of God and that we
should always pray and thank Jesus for dying on the cross for us.