Recently
at the grocery store, I ran into someone I had not seen in many years. I almost missed her, as my distaste for both
shopping and crowds often prompts me to zip through the aisles with tunnel
vision. Luckily, I glanced her way, we recognized
each other instantly, and we struck up a conversation. I found myself becoming one of those
shoppers that I silently grumble about, taking up time and space in the aisle
socializing. Ah, irony!
The
lady I met at the grocery was my boss from a drug-store job I held while in
college, a job that provided me more of an education about people than my
psychology courses ever could. My boss
and I got along wonderfully, which helped us to weather some of the most
bizarre and memorable encounters of my life, among them a lonely weekend shift
when I unwittingly thwarted an armed robbery.
My boss endured numerous struggles in her life, many of which she shared
with me as we stocked shelves.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, she was stealing money from the store in
order to address some of those struggles.
Meanwhile, I was a quiet young thing taking classes, saving a little
money, and trying to figure out life. What my boss and I had in common was that God
was not a discernable part of our lives.
Standing
in the cereal aisle at Kroger, I listened patiently as my former boss spoke of
the recent death of her husband and other struggles she’d endured. Through the recounting of the pain of her
struggles, I noticed something I had not seen before: a penetrating peace in
her eyes and the ease with which she smiled.
After her husband’s death, a young widow’s testimony in church had
inspired her to accept Jesus into her life.
Praising God, serving others, and caring for the brokenhearted has
become her life’s focus. With a growing
lump in my throat, I longed to tell her how my life had also steered toward
God, how God had planted a small seed in me through her all those years
earlier, but I didn’t. The aisle was
growing ever more crowded and time was running short. We hugged and went our separate ways.
I
have thought about her often since our chance encounter, and what I keep coming
back to is this: God works miracles in the lives of those who turn themselves
over to Jesus. She and I both struggled
in our own ways, we both fought to be independent, and we both ignored God
knocking on our hearts. How utterly amazing
that God made a way for each of us, in our own time, to answer the door to faith in Christ.
No
matter where we’ve been, what we’ve done, or what we’ve been through; no matter
how long we have wallowed in sin and misery, the loving arms of Jesus are
always ready to welcome us. The risen
Christ not only saves us from our sins, but He makes each of us a brand new
creation. Thank you, Lord, for loving us
that much!
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