The Bread Truck

I don't know why God does things His way. He really doesn't even bother to ask my opinion on how I would like Him to convey messages to me. If He did, I would say, please talk to me in a deep, God-like voice and give me very clear instructions. Give me encouragement. Let me know who you are and why you are and why you love me and how you love me. Tell me very specifically how to raise my children and how to love my husband. Speak to me very slowly like I am a child. And look me in the eye so that I know it is you. After you talk to me, please email the same information that you just spoke to me. That way, as soon as I doubt that I just finished a conversation with you, the written dialogue would appear on my computer to reassure my weak, pathetic faith.

So although God has not communicated with me in my preferred method, I believe he is talking to me. For example: A while back, Jon and I both felt that we were being led to devote ourselves to the church plant that we were involved in. Jon cut back his hours at his job to the bare minimum that we could survive on. It was one of those times when you step out, yet you don't know on what you will land. Things were tight, and every once in a while we would wonder if we could get by on what we were making. Then one day, we came to the conclusion that we just needed to be 'daily breaders'. We needed to stop focusing on what 'could' happen in the future or what 'might' happen if we couldn't pay this or that. We just needed to pray for our daily bread. A few days later, Jon was driving down the road and passed something. For some reason, it really bothered Jon, so he turned around and came back to see what it was. It was a loaf of bread. Not an ordinary white bread Kroger discount loaf, but a loaf of Pepperidge Farm Bread. The kind with the bread wrapper and then another sealed wrapper inside. The fancy kind that my Grandma serves. It was in perfect shape, so he picked it up, said a prayer of thanks, and drove off in his truck. A little while down the road, he passed another one. And then another one. And then one more. All fancy bread. All in perfect shape. He picked them all up, each time stopping his truck, getting out, saying thanks. When he told me the story, we both were really touched and really excited that God would give us such a tangible sign! Something that we could (no pun intended) really sink our teeth into. Jon shared the bread with our friends and that was that.

So now, here we are. Our finances are quite different than we planned them out to be a year or so ago. There isn't so much 'wiggle room' and we are paying off debt. But things are good. Things are amazing. I couldn't ask for a better life. However, sometimes we do wonder how in the world we can 1) go to Honduras 2) take a vacation 3) pay for the extras. I know vacation and Honduras aren't exactly the necessities in life, but doggone it, they're pretty important when one is raising a family. So, we wring our hands and pull our hair (not exactly, but you get the point).

And then, guess what? I'm driving down the highway and pass...

A loaf of bread.

On the side of the road.

In perfect shape.

hmmm.

Could it be?

Did I just get a sign? Can I get an audible voice and an email confirmation on this one?

Nope, just a loaf of bread sitting perfectly on the side of the highway.

Here we go: The next day I found out about the money we are all getting from the government to help boost the economy: $1200 a couple, plus $300 per child=$2100. The same day I prayed over my ebay items, set them at a crazy high price...and got it. Someone cleaned out their cabinets and, by 'chance', gave a couple bags of staple items to me. My neighbor came over with a gift card, for 'no reason'. Jon got reimbursed for stuff we didn't even ask for. Ryan hooked us up with a boatload of organic produce for dirt cheap. My brother-in-law gave me stuff to sell and told that he wanted us to use the money toward Honduras. The list goes on and on. What touched me the most was today. Jonah had some items out at Learning Tree to make money for his trip. It was just keychains and little bags of candy. Our goal over the next few weeks is to sell enough candy to pay for his passport. Well, at the end of the day, I knew there was probably $10 or so in his little bag and we were totally happy over that. A while later, I opened the bag to count the money and there was a check folded up in there for $20. It's from someone that I have never talked to, never met. None of my boys have had her for a teacher, nor are any of them friends with her children (her boys are older). She just left a note on the subject line: For Jonah's trip - will pray...

Should I not be so misty-eyed over this gift? Am I being dramatic? Or am I just feeling blessed? I don't know. I do know that sometimes things aren't miracles simply because we don't allow them to be. If we don't call it a miracle, it goes unnoticed in our hearts and lives. And then we miss the email confirmation as well.

So, call it a coincidence, but I know there is a booming voice in that loaf of bread on the side of the road. And I'm accepting it - with thankfulness.