While in Los Angeles years ago I went down one day on the electric line to Long Beach, just to have a little relaxation on a Saturday. I was all worn out with so many meetings and I had hardly taken my seat when a Bulgarian gypsy came along in a red dress with some spangles across her brow and long braids of black hair. She sat right down beside me, and took my hand.
Then she said, “Gentleman–gentleman–you cross my palm with silver (25 cents), I tell you past, present, future. I am seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. I born with a veil on. I can tell all mysteries.”
I said, grabbing her by the hand, “Well, it isn’t really necessary, because I’ve had that all told already.”
“But oh!” she said, “I am expert–I know very exact past, present, future.”
“Yes, but I got it from an expert. I have it here in a little book.”
And I pulled out, with my other hand, my New Testament and turned to the second chapter of
the book of the Ephesians.
I said, “Here, I’ve got my past, present and future. Here’s the past: ‘You hath He quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins; Wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience.'”
“Oh, what is that, a Bible? I got the wrong man. I got the wrong man. Let go.”
“No,” I said, “I won’t let go, I didn’t ask you to come down here and take hold of me. Now that I’ve got you, you’re going to stay here. Now I’ll give you the rest of it. Now I’ll give you my present: ‘But God, who is rich in mercy, for His great love wherewith He loved us, Even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ … by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God.’ That’s my present.”
“That’s all right. That’s all right. I’ve got enough. Good-bye.”
I said, “Wait a minute. I haven’t given you it all yet. Now here’s my future: ‘That in the ages to come He might shew the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us through Christ Jesus.'”
“Yes, gentleman, I’ve got enough,” and she gave such a pull she was gone. And down the car she went saying, “I got the wrong man; I got the wrong man.”
Taken from H.A. Ironside’s commentary on Isaiah: