Monday, November 9
i only know the dying heart needs
the nourishment of memory
to live beyond too many winters.
dry wind blowing our
dreams and hope across
the hardened, cold earth of
futility. miracles gone.
frozen. and our hearts
shrivel. hope withered.
the ache and blasts of life.
i've been in a very tough
financial place. i have
two banks. calling, i found
i had $120 in one, plus $200
in savings. trembling, i drove
across town to my other bank.
the one that REALLY matters.
where my car insurance and
gym automatically are withdrawn,
and the card by which i pay most
clutched in my hand
was the $200
from the other bank's account.
knew this account was slim, too.
barely over $100.
my heart was like a burning torch.
terror rippled through every muscle
and brain wave. at least i had the $200
from the other savings account.
chewing on my fingers. a shudder as
i walked through the second bank's doors.
when i'm in deep straits financially.....
(most single mothers are terrorized by
the thought that the day might come when
management will start throwing your
furniture and clothes across the lawn)
my shame thickens. faith the size of a pea. i
doubt the God of the universe.
i approached the teller's counter.
only one guy iin a long row of women
tellers. he's my favorite because he
hustles. quiet. well-mannered.
i slip my card through,
and weakly say...nearly above a
whisper...greg, what is in my account?
you have a little over
$1700 dollars, with nothing
used in your cash reserve (bank
money to reimburse).
i stand there transfixed.
greg, this cannot be true.
the last time i checked, it was
close to only one hundred dollars.
i'll swipe my card again.
same results. $1700.
face flushed. greg, pull up a
couple windows. where
did this come from?
before greg can say a thing,
i start run-on sentences.
greg, do you know Jesus?
i mean the REAL God?
the Hope of the world?
have you ever thought of running
i just came from
home. lying flat on my face.
by my bed. begging Jesus for
deliverance. some way to survive.
i had read the daily light. well, you
don't know about the daily light, but
it's a little book filled only with Scriptures.
and here i am................
suddenly, i sensed that the entire bank
was like a whisper. no one talking. a
ann, i know about the daily light.
yes, and i know Jesus, too.
YOU know Jesus, too?
it showed my deceased husband's
social security check. a little over $800,
but we never could figure out the rest.
i took one of the two one hundred bills,
and put it on the counter. placing greg's
hand on top of it. this is for YOU.
ann, i can't take that.
i could get fired for doing that.
you mean a lady can't just walk in
from the street. give you this and
they will FIRE you?
yes. they would.
but i want you to have this.
i don't need it anymore.
sorry, ann....but thank you so much
for the thought. it's been a hard day
for me, and you've made a difference
in my life.
i backed away from the bank.
all eyes on me. disbelief written
across by forehead. gratitude brushed
on the walls. a dance in the middle of
so many winters.
i just seem to fall into holes
i don't even see. and then spend
hours and months and years, with God's
help. crawling out.
an old hymn says,
i saw the Holy City beside
the crystal sea....
come to me.
come. and salvation
reign in my neighborhood.
at my bank. the grocery store.
the family next door.
shine, Jesus, shine.
dispense with the winter.
warm the world by your love.
thank you,, Lord..for the sweet
taste of your sanctity in our lives.