About 5 years ago, I met a man who works a tiny thrift shop.
I think I stopped to shop, but I ended up buying nothing.
The atmosphere was inviting, however, so I went back--
not for stuff but to talk with the owner.
The talk was a good one, and it informed me of a common interest-- his daughter, a great teacher of mine.
She had died while I was still in school, in a fire. Thankfully, he clung to Christ through the loss of my history teacher and endured many trials. Yes, while strong-willed, he was and remains a humble man. And it was this, this presence of calm in the 21st century that kept drawing me.
Well, since I do not live there anymore, I hardly see his car on that little corner of my home town.
But today, after God pulled at me to love on my parents, I consequently ventured by the nameless shop.
And there was that basic sign, "open." And so I entered.
When I walked in, I first noticed the smell of old books and the assortment of odds-and-ends on hooks, hangers, and shelving of all kinds. Admittedly, I was going to make a quick sympathy visit. But God had more, yes MORE, in store.
Walter opened barely moved, but the smile was in his creeking voice. He was certainly limited in strength. A mentor of sorts
had suffered even more. Still, there was no complaint. Only the desire for heaven and to be with loved ones. (He lost his last family members in the past year.)
I was going to buy something, but the one thing they did not have was what I was seeking. Then, to bless him, to add something to talk about, I asked if he would mind reading the Bible to me. And he obliged.
I was next to him, watching him, crying. I knew he was a shadow of the man he was. Still, he was invested in reading the page I randomly had when I handed it to him. I had no clue what he was reading, his words were so hard for him to read aloud. But I could see that it added meaning for him and I was really listening...
Then I got it. It was 2 Kings, when Elisha met the woman who was about to fix her last meal and die. It was the one where the woman is blessed in the face of her skepticism, after her son seemed too far gone. Thereafter, we agreed that this is encouraging, and that what looks to be the end is not-- with God.
I was about to leave, when his assistant came in. She then was given the bible, then expected to read. She was willing.
And so we listened to the story of a strong man who got leprosy and how by listening to Elisha's message to dip 7 times into the (Jordan?) river, that he was healed. Then we looked at the comparison of another chapter 5, Mark 5.
Anyways, the point of this testimony is... God moved in mighty way, in a forgotten little shop, in a quiet part of town.
Walter said at one point, "I've been praying that I'd see you again." And while my prayers were not the same, I am just as touched by his presence.
We never know who remembers us, who it is that prays for us.
Prayer: Lord, I am sorry for letting trivial matters slow me for visiting the people who matter. And don't they all?
Well, at any rate, I love you. And I thank you for people like Walter; steadfast in suffering, those who seek you daily, help me to love like they do. In Jesus' name, your will be done, amen.
I think I stopped to shop, but I ended up buying nothing.
The atmosphere was inviting, however, so I went back--
not for stuff but to talk with the owner.
The talk was a good one, and it informed me of a common interest-- his daughter, a great teacher of mine.
She had died while I was still in school, in a fire. Thankfully, he clung to Christ through the loss of my history teacher and endured many trials. Yes, while strong-willed, he was and remains a humble man. And it was this, this presence of calm in the 21st century that kept drawing me.
Well, since I do not live there anymore, I hardly see his car on that little corner of my home town.
But today, after God pulled at me to love on my parents, I consequently ventured by the nameless shop.
And there was that basic sign, "open." And so I entered.
When I walked in, I first noticed the smell of old books and the assortment of odds-and-ends on hooks, hangers, and shelving of all kinds. Admittedly, I was going to make a quick sympathy visit. But God had more, yes MORE, in store.
Walter opened barely moved, but the smile was in his creeking voice. He was certainly limited in strength. A mentor of sorts
had suffered even more. Still, there was no complaint. Only the desire for heaven and to be with loved ones. (He lost his last family members in the past year.)
I was going to buy something, but the one thing they did not have was what I was seeking. Then, to bless him, to add something to talk about, I asked if he would mind reading the Bible to me. And he obliged.
I was next to him, watching him, crying. I knew he was a shadow of the man he was. Still, he was invested in reading the page I randomly had when I handed it to him. I had no clue what he was reading, his words were so hard for him to read aloud. But I could see that it added meaning for him and I was really listening...
Then I got it. It was 2 Kings, when Elisha met the woman who was about to fix her last meal and die. It was the one where the woman is blessed in the face of her skepticism, after her son seemed too far gone. Thereafter, we agreed that this is encouraging, and that what looks to be the end is not-- with God.
I was about to leave, when his assistant came in. She then was given the bible, then expected to read. She was willing.
And so we listened to the story of a strong man who got leprosy and how by listening to Elisha's message to dip 7 times into the (Jordan?) river, that he was healed. Then we looked at the comparison of another chapter 5, Mark 5.
Anyways, the point of this testimony is... God moved in mighty way, in a forgotten little shop, in a quiet part of town.
Walter said at one point, "I've been praying that I'd see you again." And while my prayers were not the same, I am just as touched by his presence.
We never know who remembers us, who it is that prays for us.
Prayer: Lord, I am sorry for letting trivial matters slow me for visiting the people who matter. And don't they all?
Well, at any rate, I love you. And I thank you for people like Walter; steadfast in suffering, those who seek you daily, help me to love like they do. In Jesus' name, your will be done, amen.