I went to Target yesterday, and as we were leaving, I heard God speak. That doesn't describe it exactly - it wasn't auditory, and it wasn't words that came to me. It wasn't like Bill Cosby's Noah sketch - there wasn't a *ping*. I had just buckled Wendy into her car seat, locked the doors, and was returning the cart to the corral when I saw her - I'll call her Edith. Here's the scene:
Edith is a well-dressed woman in her early 80s, who drives a well-kept luxury car, several years old. Edith is wearing nice slacks, sensible shoes, and has a cardigan draped over her shoulders, despite the warm sunshine beating down on us. Edith has the trunk of her car open, and is unloading her groceries. She reminds me a lot of James' grandmother, Mary - a steel magnolia if I've ever met one.
Edith's posture is hunched, as if she has severe arthritis causing her shoulders & neck to be stiff & painful. She's almost got her cart unloaded, but two items remain - two twelve-packs of Diet Pepsi.
And then I get a sudden urge to help her. HELP HER. I am very shy by nature, and go out of my way to not interact with people I don't know. But I know, somehow, that I must help her. It's not a big deal, really - I just go up to her, ask if she'd like my help, and load those two packs of soda into her trunk. She thanks me profusely, and we go our separate ways.
Ordinarily, an occurence like this wouldn't be blog fodder. But here's the thing - I fully recognize that God was telling me to help this woman. I've always been skeptical of people who claim that God speaks to them or directly reveals His will in their lives, but then I felt it. It was in a little thing, but it was so exciting, so energizing, and so wonderful.
I wonder how many other times He's spoken to me, and I didn't listen. I ignored Him. I was too caught up in my own petty concerns to listen to what the Savior had to say. Shame on me.
I plan to listen more, from now on. And I hope Edith had a great day!