The Cracker Barrel chairs out front rock and sway. We slip inside, and I head straight to the bathroom. That’s a joke in my house because I can’t go from Point A to Point B without needing to find a restroom.
“You can go get a table. I’ll find y’all,” I say.
I pass this sweet elderly man waiting by the restroom door. He’s propped his elbows up on the counter. He looks so out of place, yet so comfortable. Peaceful. Purposeful. Maybe he’s waiting for his wife. I smile. He smiles. I feel drawn to him.
We eat dinner. I’m so routine. Chicken and dumplings for me … light on the chicken. The dumplings are my favorite part. Why waste valuable, limited space on your least favorite part?
We make our way to the exit with these treasures tucked away in a brown paper sack. All three of us girls have one item each.
Can you guess which treasure is mine?
Plus two Andes thin chocolate mints each … the kind in the green package. My sweet proof is missing.
We push through the door, and there is that sweet man sitting in a rocking chair out front. I smile.
“Bye,” I say.
“Don’t forget to write,” he replies, with a smile.
I laugh myself hysterically all the way to the car. His personality reminds me of my grandfather. It took maximum restraint not to run up and hug him. Walking the length of that front porch, I have to repeat his comment to the girls and explain a little, and then they laugh themselves hysterically, too.
“Don’t forget to write.” The treasured meaning knocks me right upside the head, wraps around my shoulders like a scarf, and pulls me in for a tender kiss.
Yes, Lord, I’m listening. I won’t forget to write. I’ll write. I will.
When discouraged, O Soul Within, the Lord knows and sees. And He speaks through the least likely people, who end up being the most likely people. It really all makes sense.
What if that sweet man were waiting for me? All along. What if he was an angel? What if?
And I’m reminded of a journal that was given to me recently, at a lady’s retreat I spoke at. I didn’t have time to make one like everyone else because I spent time in prayer and preparing. But I shared about how special journaling had been in my life. And before I left, the ladies gave me my very own. It’s so cute, y’all. It even has a tiny journal pocketed on the inside.
And I know the Lord is speaking straight to my soul. Oh, the sweetness that waits for me.
Don’t forget me, He breathes into my heart. Time is valuable and limited. I’m the only one who makes sense.
Write your novel story for me, to me, share with me.
Share your life with me. Share your days and nights with me. Push through the doors to see me. Listen for me. Let me be your routine.
Select me. Seek me with all your heart. Let me be your favorite part—your treasure.
I am so un-fit for The King, but He pursues me anyway, like I’m the greatest gift in the world. It’s humbling …
|Our treasures from Cracker Barrel. Did you guess correctly?!|
Have you ever wondered if you’d just entertained an angel? Or perhaps wondered if an angel had just entertained you? Has God ever used someone interesting, least expected, to speak to your heart? I’d love to hear your story.