The Little Things . . .

God is faithful in the little things!

We’ve all heard this saying at one point or another in our lives, and I am here this morning to share a little story with You!

Last week, Tuesday, while Darrell was down the street getting his haircut, he gave me the car keys so I could go get my eyebrows (and mustache) waxed at the corner nail salon. When I got in his car, I noticed the gas tank was nearing Empty, and so after I pampered me-self, I stopped at Hess to get Darrell’s car “fill-er up regular” (as my dear dad used to say back in the day when they actually pumped your gas for you).  Well, as is customary, I drove up to the pump, removed my debit card from its cozy slot in my wallet, placed my wallet back into my purse, and locked the car door behind me.  Next, I walked around the back of the car to access the tank, up to the gas pump, and I swiped my debit card–using it as a credit card, due to its having been skimmed two years ago–and immediately, placed my card safely into–not my shorts pocket–but into my left bra cup, a place where it resides safe and secure, safely tucked away until I am able to get it back into my wallet.

I noticed two women were having a conversation at the pump kitty-korner from me, but I paid not much attention, believing that they were together.  Just then, as I placed the nozzle into the tank, I was distracted by one of the two women.  She appeared to be homeless, and she was asking me for cash.  “Oh, so that’s what she’s doing,” I thought to myself.  I really did not want to open myself up for conversation, and felt a bit uneasy about being approached.  She was, after all, invading my personal space.

She was a short, heavy woman, wearing no bra (but desperately needing one), a black wig, and sunglasses.  Hmm, weird . . . it wasn’t bright and sunny out, it was evening, and nearing sundown.  I wasn’t so sure about her “truth-telling” skills–but I listened to her anyway.  She went on to tell me that she had just “borrowed” three dollars from the woman at gas pump number one (the woman I had spotted her speaking with), and she went on to tell me that she lived over an hour away, and wasn’t sure that with the price of a gallon of gas being $4 if she’d be able to make it home on $3 alone.  So, she went on, could I help her out by giving her some additional cash, and if I would be so kind, she in return would pray for me at her Bible study.  With much hesitation and trying a wee bit not to look too bothered, I quickly scanned the parking lot for a possible “accomplice” (you just never know these days!) . . . I unlocked my car, reached into the passenger’s seat, grabbed my purse, removed my wallet, and gave her a generous gift of $5 to help her out with her plight.

To be sure I wasn’t being suckered–I asked her where her car was, and she pointed to the car on the other side of the pump where I was filling up my gas tank.  Ah, she actually did have a vehicle. Interesting!  It was then at that moment that I “began” to believe her story to be “legit”.  Within an instant, just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone.  Hmm, I wondered why she had fled so quickly, as I did not see her at the pump filling up said gas tank.  I went on about my business, and I filled Darrell’s gas tank up to the Full, and $48 later, I decided I wanted to go inside the store and grab a Coke.  I had seen my next-pump-neighbor go inside herself, and a part of me wanted to be sure she was in fact not scamming me (still).  So, I pulled my car up to a parking spot right up front, right at the entrance to the store.  I walked to the coooler, grabbed myself two Cokes–a one-liter bottle and a can–and as I made my way towards the cashier, might I mention–I could not resist the attractive bag of pork rinds glancing my way. Should I, or shouldn’t I, I asked my “self”.  Oh, go ahead, they looked so appealing!  As I approached the counter to pay for said items, I nonchalantly asked the cashier if he had seen a woman of the above-listed description step inside the store.  Without hesitation, he stated, “yes, I believe she’s in the restroom”.  I asked him if she had paid for any gas, to which he replied, “yeah, she put $8 on Pump 3″.  Well, alrighty then, I thought to my “self”.  She was telling the truth! . . . and she wasn’t scamming cash from people at the pump–most importantly, me.  Her story was real, and it was truth.  I needed to forgive myself for not believing in her in the first place, but her story seemed just a wee-bit odd . . . she told me she lived over an hour-and-a-half away, and worked this far south, two nights a week?  I mean, c’mon.  What kind of work could she possibly do?  What part-time job was worth that!  Obsiously, they didn’t seem to be paying a decent salary.

Well, I’m embarrassed to say, I didn’t take the time to soften my heart towards her–until I discovered that she was indeed telling the truth.  Why, she even offered to pray for me at her Bible study! I felt like a real heel–I mean, that could’ve been me!  What was wrong with me that I didn’t believe in her! . . . I was humbled.  Instaneously.

I finished up my with my transaction, and out of both guilt and generosity, I handed the cashier another $8 from my Coke and pork rind change to apply towards the woman’s cause.  I then jumped back into Darrell’s car, and drove off to meet back up with him at the hair salon.  I prayed for the woman as I drove off, and asked the Lord to bless her immensely and to keep watch over her until she reached her destination.  “May the money I contributed be enough to get her home and then onto other destinations until she can get herself home safely and find more money to be able to afford to fill her tank.”  Amen.

Boy, I was feeling a bit “holy” at this point.  Can you even begin to imagine!

When I arrived at the hair salon, Darrell was just about finishing up with Scott (the nice hairdresser from Paris, Texas).  I plopped into the empty station seat next to them, and I began to share my “encounter”.  I told them all about this woman, and they–of course–scoffed a bit and were playful with my little story.  You see, they would have never given her a cent–let alone $13!

I enjoyed my pork rinds and bottle of Coke as I sat and waited for Scott to finish with Darrell’s haircut.  Then off we went–Darrell and I–to run a few more errands.

A couple of days later (Thursday) after work, I stopped in at my own hairdresser’s salon to pick up my new CROC blowdryer.  While there, I noticed their little jewelry boutique case, wherein I found a nice little birthday gift for a wonderful coworker.  As I opened my wallet to pay for my items, and to retrieve my debit card, I immediately discovered it was missing. M i s s i n g !  Yes, sadly so, it was not in its safe little pocket slot in my wallet. OMGoshhhhhhhhh, where could it be! It was then and there that I ran through recent events in my mind, and remembered that I hadn’t seen or used it since my visit to the gas pump a couple of days earlier.

I panicked, but “luckily” I had both ca$h and my checkbook with me.  Wheweeee–what a relief.  I didn’t want to leave without my NEW CROC blowdryer–after all, they were rated Number One last year!

I drove home and racked my brain to see if I could remember where I may have placed my debit card.  With all thoughts reverted to that night, I suddenly remembered its being in my left bra cup.  I had undressed for bed in the dark when I got home that night, so it had to have been on my bedroom floor.  I looked for it, for a full three days, with its never appearing to me.

I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed–confidently, I might add–that God would lead me to it.  Everybody I shared my dilemma with questioned me, “aren’t you scared someone found it, and will use it?” I had NO FEAR. I prayed about it, and KNEW that I knew that I knew that the Lord would lead me to it.  Anyway, if they had found it, wouldn’t they have used it right away?  What crook wouldn’t!  They’d never wait three to four days when they could run all over town at once.

Sharing my story of my lost debit card with my coworkers, I was repeatedly urged to call my bank and cancel it AT ONCE!  I had peace about my finding it, and never cancelled the card.  I even made some online purchases with it since I have the card number and three-digit code on the back of the card  memorized.

Well, it had been days, and I never found my poor little, lost debit card.  I wasn’t giving up, I stammered.  It was all good, and I felt okay because I did in fact have my card number memorized, and had already used it online to pay a bill and shop online–by rote.

For days on end, I searched the house, I searched my clothing from that night, and I shook every piece of clothing in sight.  My poor little debit card was NOWHERE.  Days passed, and I started thinking that maybe I should cancel the card, and get a new one like my coworkers had suggested .  Saturday came and went, and I missed the bank.  Oh, well, I thought to myself, I’ll go to the bank tomorrow–yes, my bank is open on Sundays.  When I tell you I searched–I searched, I searched, and I researched!

Well, this morning (Sunday morning) when I awoke and jumped out of bed, I could NOT believe my eyes.  I was half-asleep and took a double glance, rubbing my eyes to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.  Could it be!  There was my lost little debit card, laying face-down, smack-dab in the middle of my bedroom floor.  I HAVE NO IDEA how it got there, as I had searched the room the night before–on my hands and knees–all lights on, and with flashlight in hand for those dark spots underneath the furniture.

The one thing I do know is this . . . I prayed, believing, that the Lord would be faithful and show me exactly where it was.  I was sure He would show up faithful on my behalf, just like He’s done for me on a million-and-one situations.

Well, know this one thing–Our God who created all things, and who knows the number of hairs on my head–AND YOURS–cares about even the minutest detail, so much so that He would lead me to my debit card.  WOW! ~ WOW! ~ WOW!

I knew He would answer my prayer, and He did. I don’t have the smallest of a clue as to how my debit card ended up appearing in the middle of my floor that morning, when the night before I had searched the room over and over, several times, in the same places–under dressers, under the nightstand, the tv stand, the bed, the closet, all my dirty clothing, and I had most certainly scanned the entire bedroom floor.  Just how it ended up appearing this morning, I’ll never know exactly, but I do know that it pays to TRUST IN HIM.

All Glory, Honor, Power, and Praise to His Mighty Name!

Amen!

I Trust ~Him~ in the Little Things . . .

Do YOU?

~ g  r  a  c  i  e ~

~♥~

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7 thoughts on “The Little Things . . .

      • Gracie – I loved your story!! You are a gifted writer – but, more importantly, you are a beautiful Christian with an unwavering faith, with multifaceted gifts from the Lord. Be blessed my dear sister. Love you bunches. Colleen

  1. Because my heart leans toward hardness, if a person asks for money, I generally reach in my pocket without thinking and give some to them. Do beggars take advantage of me? Probably. But for me, it’s all about trying to keep my heart tender before the Lord.

    So, is that you dancing on the beach in your icon?

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