Last month Greg and I were invited to attend a fund-raising
gala. It was to be a classy event, which meant I was going to have to reach way
back in my closet and find something much dressier than I usually wear. The day
came: we got all dressed up and went out and had a wonderful time.
And that is the end of that story. But wearing that outfit
reminded me of a story that I have only ever shared with a couple of friends and
yet which I always meant to tell to a larger audience: a story of the goodness
of God in the little things, His readiness to help in the tiniest details of
our lives—when we simply ask.
It must be ten years ago that I found that plum and metallic
gold dress at Winner’s: only $29 and it fit like a glove. I wore it on a couple
of occasions, in places like Mexico where one is quite comfortable going out
with nothing to throw over bare shoulders. But then a couple of years later, I
wanted to wear it to a special event in Wetaskiwin in March, and I knew I would
freeze if I didn’t have a wrap.
But plum and metallic gold—what an impossible material to
match. I began to think that I should try to find a piece of all-gold metallic
fabric. Tending to procrastination as I have often been inclined, it wasn’t
until a couple of days before the big dinner-dance that I did anything about
it. In my usual running conversation with God that morning, I asked Him to help
me find something suitable. After praying that little prayer, I felt impressed
that I should drive to the solitary fabric store in Leduc, 20 minutes away. Not
that that seemed a really supernatural leading; that was the only choice I had
without driving all the way into Edmonton.
I stuffed the slinky little dress into a plastic bag and
headed out. Once at the store, I went directly to the remnant bin, looking as
always for a bargain. As I pawed through bundles of leftover cloth, a sales
woman came over and asked if I needed any help.
“I’m hoping to find something to make a shawl, maybe a gold
metallic, to go with this,” and I pulled the dress out of the bag.
“We have a rack of metallics over here,” she said, and she
led the way.
And there I saw it: the same plum, the same gold, the same
fringe, just with a slightly different weave. I was absolutely astounded.
The fabric was made in large square panels surrounded by the
fringe. The woman cut off a single square for me. I paid her $13 and headed
home, planning exactly how to sew up this little treasure.
That evening a friend happened to drop by. Excitedly I
pulled out the dress and shawl fabric and told her the story, finishing with,
“What do you think?!”
And she said, “I think Jesus loves you very much.”
What a cool way to put it. I did feel His love through that
gesture; I felt His caring heart in the little details; His provision—not just
in the necessities but in the special extras.
He loves each one of us like that, and He is just waiting
for us to connect in that way, to come to Him with expectation, so He can show
His kindness.
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