I’m in the middle of another move. My husband has gone ahead of us to start his job, and our children and I are waiting behind to try to sell our house. I have long lists of what I need to get to my husband ASAP, what I need to cancel here, and what I need to get started at our new home. Lots of details.
Last week, my husband was sitting in our new house with many of his clothes, his guitars, and an air mattress. He had enough towels to get him through a few days, and a sheet set and blanket, but that’s about it. So, the kids and I rented a trailer and loaded it with as much of his stuff as we could muster, including a comfortable chair to sit in.
We were all loaded and ready to go, when Snowstorm Remus blasted through the east coast leaving measurable white stuff on the ground in states that rarely see it, like Alabama and Mississippi. At my house we got a mere three-inches. Except that three inches sat on top of the partially melted nine-inches from a few days before.
Normally, the snowfall wouldn’t have bothered me. We’d have cleared the driveway and headed out. But, I currently live on a hill. And once I get down my driveway and safely make the ninety-degree turn on to the street, I have a substantial hill to climb up. And at the top of that hill I’m greeted by a stop sign, another ninety-degree turn, and another substantial hill up. My truck alone? Probably still not a big deal. But pulling a trailer as fully loaded as my daughter and I in our vast experience of moving can pack it? I have never missed my studded tires from Alaska more.
So, I walked down to look at the roads, and I looked at the radar; I talked with my kids, and we decided to try it. I start texting and tweeting friends to pray for us. My boys get to work digging us out, and an hour later we buckle our seat belts. I quickly texted my husband and a few friends to let them know we are leaving and ask for their prayers, and then I put the truck in drive. I get halfway down the drive when I realize I forgot to have the boys take the trash cans back into the garage, so I stop and send them back out into the cold.
God shows up
And then something happens. As my two boys walk past my truck on their way to the garage, the snowplow goes down our road, on my side of the street.
Some might think that was coincidence. Some might even dismiss it as a nice gift from God.
Me? Well, think about it like this: God knew I wanted to take care of my husband by taking him a load of things that would make life a little better for him. None of it was necessary, and all of it could have waited another day or two. But my heart was to care for someone I loved.
None of us were being put into danger. Worse case scenario probably would have meant parking the truck and trailer on the side of the road within our neighborhood and walking back to our house until the weather was more agreeable to driving.
Why? Because He cares about me–about the big things and the little things.
Where has God shown up recently in your little things?