FROM JAFFA TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH 43a moment of time. There he was. Jesus.
Five Minutes to Eight
The students around me couldn't possibly know what
was taking place in my life. They were all praying. Then,
one by one, they began slipping out of the room and on to
their classes.
It was five minutes to eight o'clock in the morning. By
this time I was just sitting there crying. I didn't know what
to do or what to say.
At the time I didn't understand it, but Jesus became as
real to me as the floor beneath my feet. I didn't really pray,
except for those four words. But I knew beyond any doubt
that something extraordinary had happened that February
morning.
I was almost late for history. It was one of my favorite
subjects; we were studying the Chinese Revolution. But I
couldn't even hear the teacher. I don't remember anything
that was said. The feeling that began that morning would
not leave me. Every time I closed my eyes, there He was—
Jesus. And when I opened my eyes, He was still there. The
picture of the Lord's face would not leave me.
All day I was wiping the tears from my eyes. And the
only thing I could say was, "Jesus, I love you .... Jesus, I
love you."
As I walked out of the door of the school and down the
sidewalk to the corner, I looked at the window of the
library. And the pieces began to fall into place.
The angel. The dream. It all became real again.
What was God trying to tell me?
What was happening to Benny?