Monday's Devo: Breadsticks & Pop
When seven college-aged young adults crash your empty nest for the weekend, the first thing you do on a Friday night is....order pizza! Right?
There were back packs, laundry bags, laptops, pillows, blankets, drinks, and snacks strewn all about our not-so-empty nest. It was awesome. Our usual two-pizza order for our family of four turned into four pizzas, and two orders of breadsticks and pop. Carb-city...bring it!! We were starving.
By the time the pizza delivery lady made it five miles out of town to our dirt road location, we just took the boxes gladly, paid her and sent her on her way. Moments later, gathered around our delicious smelling pizzas, we realized she'd forgotten the pop and breadsticks. I quickly called the company back, thinking she just needed to turn back. But no. She'd forgotten that part of the order and had to drive an additional ten miles to town and back. Awww. Shucks.
My son though, felt bad for her and insisted we tip her again when she returned. I, admittedly a bit annoyed, explained that I'd already tipped generously the first time. But Ben insisted that she was having a bad night. So, I grabbed a few odd dollars that happened to be laying on the counter and tossed it at him, saying "go ahead, if you feel so strongly about it."
We prayed, filled our plates, sacked out on the couches, and started filling our stomachs.
Halfway through my first piece of pizza, the delivery lady rapped on the back door and Ben jumped up and invited her inside. He took the order and handed her the extra tip. She looked entirely embarrassed and apologized profusely. Her voice was clearly upset by it as she went on to explain that it had been a terrible day and she just wasn't thinking straight.
I stood and moved toward her asking why her week was so awful. I sensed three or four of my daughter's friends move close in behind me as I stood next to the woman. She explained that she'd just heard right before her shift that her cousin had been struck by a car while walking across the street and has been in a coma for two weeks. The woman was near tears as my daughter exclaimed, "oh, just let us pray for you!"
The lady's face nearly crumpled as she nodded her ascent. I laid my hand on her shoulder as my family and friends gathered around the pizza lady and thanked God that she'd forgotten the pop and breadsticks, and that it had brought her back to us for a greater blessing that she needed. We prayed for peace, healing, and focus for her work. When the prayer was over, she trembled and wiped tears away as she asked if she could have a hug. I swooped her into my arms and squeezed hard.
She clung, as if to a life preserver. I felt her still trembling in my arms.
I wanted God to give her more than a hug and a tip.
She released me and half smiled, thanking us all. We blessed her and told her, our house is the Love house, that's what we do here. We wished her well and parted ways.
That encounter filled us more than the pizza did. And of course, my son exclaimed, "see Mom, I told you!"
He was listening to that still small voice that saw into the situation.
What a wonderful reminder that we all need to take a deeper look.
Listen more carefully to that still small voice of the Spirit.
Offer love, hugs, and prayers.
Pray for healing.
Even with pizza delivery ladies.
Suddenly breadsticks and pop reminded me more of bread and wine.
His body and blood poured out for me. A much greater gift than an undeserved tip.
Mercy.
Grace.
Love.
Healing--by His stripes.
Next time I take communion,
I'll be thinking of breadsticks and pop.
Luke 22:18 & 19 "…for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes."And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me." 20And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in My blood.…"
Next time I pray for greater boldness to step out in faith, I'll be on the lookout for unconventional encounters!-------------Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots.
Nurse Practitioner by day.
Wife, mother, writer by night.
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook Find me on: Pinterest
Find me on: TwitterFind me on: Goodreads
There were back packs, laundry bags, laptops, pillows, blankets, drinks, and snacks strewn all about our not-so-empty nest. It was awesome. Our usual two-pizza order for our family of four turned into four pizzas, and two orders of breadsticks and pop. Carb-city...bring it!! We were starving.
By the time the pizza delivery lady made it five miles out of town to our dirt road location, we just took the boxes gladly, paid her and sent her on her way. Moments later, gathered around our delicious smelling pizzas, we realized she'd forgotten the pop and breadsticks. I quickly called the company back, thinking she just needed to turn back. But no. She'd forgotten that part of the order and had to drive an additional ten miles to town and back. Awww. Shucks.
My son though, felt bad for her and insisted we tip her again when she returned. I, admittedly a bit annoyed, explained that I'd already tipped generously the first time. But Ben insisted that she was having a bad night. So, I grabbed a few odd dollars that happened to be laying on the counter and tossed it at him, saying "go ahead, if you feel so strongly about it."
We prayed, filled our plates, sacked out on the couches, and started filling our stomachs.
Halfway through my first piece of pizza, the delivery lady rapped on the back door and Ben jumped up and invited her inside. He took the order and handed her the extra tip. She looked entirely embarrassed and apologized profusely. Her voice was clearly upset by it as she went on to explain that it had been a terrible day and she just wasn't thinking straight.
I stood and moved toward her asking why her week was so awful. I sensed three or four of my daughter's friends move close in behind me as I stood next to the woman. She explained that she'd just heard right before her shift that her cousin had been struck by a car while walking across the street and has been in a coma for two weeks. The woman was near tears as my daughter exclaimed, "oh, just let us pray for you!"
The lady's face nearly crumpled as she nodded her ascent. I laid my hand on her shoulder as my family and friends gathered around the pizza lady and thanked God that she'd forgotten the pop and breadsticks, and that it had brought her back to us for a greater blessing that she needed. We prayed for peace, healing, and focus for her work. When the prayer was over, she trembled and wiped tears away as she asked if she could have a hug. I swooped her into my arms and squeezed hard.
She clung, as if to a life preserver. I felt her still trembling in my arms.
I wanted God to give her more than a hug and a tip.
She released me and half smiled, thanking us all. We blessed her and told her, our house is the Love house, that's what we do here. We wished her well and parted ways.
That encounter filled us more than the pizza did. And of course, my son exclaimed, "see Mom, I told you!"
He was listening to that still small voice that saw into the situation.
What a wonderful reminder that we all need to take a deeper look.
Listen more carefully to that still small voice of the Spirit.
Offer love, hugs, and prayers.
Pray for healing.
Even with pizza delivery ladies.
Suddenly breadsticks and pop reminded me more of bread and wine.
His body and blood poured out for me. A much greater gift than an undeserved tip.
Mercy.
Grace.
Love.
Healing--by His stripes.
Next time I take communion,
I'll be thinking of breadsticks and pop.
Luke 22:18 & 19 "…for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine from now on until the kingdom of God comes."And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me." 20And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in My blood.…"
Next time I pray for greater boldness to step out in faith, I'll be on the lookout for unconventional encounters!-------------Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots.
Nurse Practitioner by day.
Wife, mother, writer by night.
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook Find me on: Pinterest
Find me on: TwitterFind me on: Goodreads
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