I love it when God brings forgotten memories of His faithfulness to mind. The other day I was pondering such things. Being a list maker my heart was fixed upon a time in life where there was great loneliness, and yet God was showing His care in several ways.
Near the seminary where I attended was also a church that had taken pity on me and hired me as a custodian. I say pity because I was immature and not very good at my job. My efforts never seemed to measure up, and yet the folks there were gracious and patient with me.
On Monday nights they conducted visitation. I would take care of the church cleaning, especially the sanctuary. Here I would privately preach to an empty room with my thoughts running deep into the glories of God. One particular Monday had been exasperating. My loneliness was washing over me as a storm, wondering what God had in store for my future. I was tired, and lacking hope.
As I rounded the hall while dwelling on these thoughts a man stopped me. I recall his name as Rick Martinez. He was the director of visitation. In his hand was a napkin covered plate. Handing it to me he expressed that the family had thought of me while eating dinner and wanted to share with me.
Even now I fail to draw the bucket up from the depths of what God was working in my heart at that moment. It became a spiritual marker to me. Under that napkin was a handful of potato chips and a very simple sandwich. The sandwich was white bread, ham, and cheese. There were no condiments. But its simplicity represented the God would be my daily bread. It was like eating manna that night.
That one act of kindness, that Christian love, set a renewal of strength and faith in me that has its workings even now.
Martinez family, where ever you are, may God be blessing you.
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