Being Available, Even on Thanksgiving

This may be the most enthusiastic post I have posted... ever.

 Thanksgiving was great.  Phenomenal time.  Love the fam, yada yada.

As I got back to my home and was settling down for the evening, my friends Mike and Francis decided we would all meet up at the local Waffle House and support one of the many establishments that force poor folks to work on national holidays!

I threw on my jacket and was half out the door of my bedroom when... it happened.  That still small voice of the Holy Spirit said, "Grab a tract and a twenty dollar bill."  Usually I fight things like this because, well, I am dumb.  I was in a hurry, so I grabbed a sweet Max Lucado pamphlet I had that explains John 3:16 and why Jesus died for humankind, stuffed it in my sweet new green jacket, and off I zoomed.

Sitting at the grungy excuse for a restaurant, I ordered some magical "pumpkin spice" waffle and a cup of WH coffee.  "Drinks are on me, boys!"  So Mike and Francis got some, too.  We are heavy coffee drinkers... especially before seeing a new movie.

Our waitress, bless her heart, looked tired.  She had been serving ungrateful folk for the better part of her Thanksgiving.  She was super kind and gentle, despite the surprisingly large crowd gathered there for the holiday's evening.

I paid for our stuff (which at WH never amounts to much of nothing... its like McDonald's and IHOP had a baby and named him Waffle House) and asked the lady if she would take time to read this booklet before she went to bed tonight.

She thumbed through its five or six pages, and asked inquisitively, "What's it about???" with a near sense of urgency.  He prompt seriousness caught me off guard, because normally people just smile and say thanks.

I stammered, "Well, it is about Jesus.  He means a lot to me, and I think this could help you."

Her eyes filled up with the sweet tears of someone gripped by the love of our Heavenly Father as she spilled her guts...

Her life was devastated recently.  Her family was torn apart by a fire in Nevada.  She had two kids, 8 and 7, who made it out alive to be put on life preservers though now they are doing much better.  Her other two children were stuck in the building, and she was unable to get them out.  Now, she carries the guilt, pain, and anger that comes with not being able to save her children.  My heart ached as she softly said, "The guilt follows me. You know, as a mother... because I was supposed to protect them..."

She continued...

"I really needed this.  I need God in my life so bad."

"Jesus is so real and wants to heal those wounds, because, ya know, He is trying to get your attention, and all those events brought you to tonight so you would follow Him.  Can we pray for you..."

I started those words, "can we pray for you..." as she dropped the bottle of syrup on the table and frantically stuck out her hand for me to hold while we prayed.  I had intended on telling her we did not have to right now if she did not want to, but well, she apparently wanted to!

Right there, greasy semi-truck drivers, hobos, waffles, fellow waitresses, and all... we prayed a prayer over this gentle lady.

I love how God does not respect our holidays so much.  He never takes days off.  He, just like the waitress, was working all day.  He brought some peace to that lady tonight.  Will you keep her in your prayers?  And will you make sure you are available for Him to use?