She stood barefoot in line behind me at Kroger’s late on Christmas Eve afternoon. The two small containers of infant formula she placed on the conveyor belt and the little plastic card she rubbed between her fingers, spoke volumes; as did her loosely fitting, stained, and worn t-shirt with soft pajama type pants. She’d obviously given birth very recently.

I didn’t stare—but it’s amazing how many details peripheral vision will take in.

I’d never seen the young woman before, but impressions that came to mind were “gentle” and “clean”—from her long pale golden red hair all the way down to her bare feet.

The grocery store isn’t my favorite place to be on Christmas Eve—especially since I had so many things left to do at home; but I was out of cayenne pepper, of all things—a key ingredient in the Southwest Mushroom Casserole I’d be serving at the next morning’s brunch.

I’d already made up my mind to be cheerful while I was there. So another late shopper in the spice aisle and I had joked about the possibility of purchasing the giant container of cayenne and putting a cup of it in everyone’s stocking. I’m actually proud to say that probably no one unpacking one of my Christmas stockings would bat an eye. Mason had already told me, the day before, that if I put another giant dill pickle in his stocking, I was wasting my money.

So, in the spirit of joy, I’d added some extra non-essential items to my basket—marshmallows for hot chocolate and cans of real whipping cream for my great-nephews Uncle Dan trick. Those, and the cayenne pepper, made quite a contrast to the small containers of baby formula.

I knew what I wanted to do, but didn’t want to offend. So I very quietly told the checker to add the formula to my bill. She and the young woman both looked at me and I said, “Oh, I don’t want your formula, I just want to pay for it”. The young woman mouthed the words “thank you”.

When I’d finished paying, she said, “Ma’am, may I give you a hug or carry your groceries to your car for you”?

I quickly explained no because I had a sinus infection, was taking antibiotics, and didn’t want her or her baby to get sick. I told her “God bless” and went on.

When I got outside, I knew I needed, and really really wanted, to do more than that. I grabbed some cash from my purse and turned my cart around. She was standing on the sidewalk looking as though she were waiting for someone to drive up. When I handed her the money, she started crying and said, “now you’re going to make me cry”. Which made two of us.

What an amazing God-privilege to be able to give and help someone else. I told April later that day that I was pretty sure I’d met an angel at Kroger’s on Christmas Eve.

Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers,

for some who have done this

have entertained angels without realizing it!

Hebrews 13:2

Last month I made reservations for 11 of us to take an afternoon journey on the Texas State Railroad POLAR EXPRESS. Beguiling descriptions of Christmas cookies, mugs of hot chocolate, and silver bells personally handed out by Santa Claus made me smile.

Probably because of our group size, we were seated in our own private, turn of the century wood and brass train car—complete with white cloth-covered tables. Garlands and stockings, emblazoned with BELIEVE in glittered letters, draped the full windows overlooking the snow-less East Texas woods.

Our personal car attendant, Donna, was a beautiful joy-filled lady; she sang along with the Christmas carols, and danced up and down the aisle, while she served us. Rylan, age 2, eventually joined her; and much to our delight, clapped, sang and danced right along beside her.

Sometimes I love God’s surprises. Near the end of our ride, Donna asked my great-nephews where we were from; and I told her that my son-in-law is the school superintendent at one of our county schools. She asked if we knew some kids from his school and we did; she told us that she worked with their mom. I then told her that their mom had been in the Sunday school class I taught for years and years; and that my husband had been the pastor of the church for 20 years—until he was killed four years ago.

Donna stopped and said, “Oh…you’re the one with the Scriptures…” and her eyes filled with tears. I knew exactly what she meant because my former Sunday school student has told me several times that she forwards my Scripture on the go emails to everyone on her distribution list.

I looked at Donna and said, “I bet you prayed for me”. And she said she had.

So first we laughed; and then we hugged and cried. A while back I’d written that, even though I knew hundreds of people had prayed for me following Dan’s death, there wasn’t any way I could know exactly who they were until eternity. Well, yesterday God allowed me just a tiny glimpse of the surprises he has waiting there for me.

…”No eye has seen,

no ear has heard,

and no mind has imagined

what God has prepared

for those who love him.”

1 Corinthians 2:9

“One Thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp came into my hands at exactly the right time. Wanting joy restored to my life and willing to deliberately seek, but not exactly sure how or where to find; I think my friend, Mary, listened to the Spirit’s prompting and mailed me the book.

For the past several weeks I’ve been practicing its core premise of eucharisteo—to be grateful; feel thankful; and give thanks—as the door for joy to reenter. I’ve followed the author’s example and begun a list of 1000 things I love. Her list’s #1 item was a perfect example of inspiration: morning shadows across the old floors.

First on my list was: sound of crows in early morning quiet. I smiled when I wrote that down in my “1000 Gifts” journal and I’m smiling as I type it now. It’s fun to consciously look for things I love; but it’s even more fun to feel the joy surge when I write them down.

My #10: warm clean clothes fresh out of the dryer. I’ve always liked to hug their warmth, but I’d never written it down until now. I’m smiling again.

#24: being awakened in the night by waves of aroma from the baking Thanksgiving ham.

#34: sowing wildflower seeds in the fall.

#59: brightly colored scarves.

#68: listening to the wind before a storm

#98: the smell of cornbread baking in my old iron skillet

#141: the tiny sound that dry leaves make when they fall

#157: thick red clover in the pasture

What a wonderful trade—I give him thanks and he gives me joy.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving;

go into his courts with praise.

Give thanks to him and praise his name.

Psalm 100:4