Happy Resurrection Day, my brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus! Having taken a social media break for the last six and a half weeks, it's time to resurrect this blog! As the Lord has been speaking to me, there are all manner of subjects that I want to write to you about over the next few weeks. Before I take on any of that however, I need to tell you a story that trumped all of those topics. I believe that's just as God would have it. So dig this...
Last Wednesday, I had a lunch date planned with a precious friend. We had set the day, the time, and the place, about a week in advance. If you know me at all, you know that in order to make this lunch, I had to plot out my morning just so. Just so I would make it on time, with everything that I needed to get done at home...done. On schedule, about a half hour before our designated time, my friend called to ask if I would mind changing the restaurant because she had a taste for cream of broccoli soup. No problem. She also asked me to bring along some papers that I had given to her previously, but she had misplaced. Again, no problem. Except that those papers were buried in boxes in a closet and would take a few minutes to collect. A little damp above the upper lip, I set out of the house, a few minutes later than I would have liked.
Because of our change in the location, I headed east from my house, when the original location would have taken me west. About ten houses away from my own, I couldn't believe my eyes! There in the oncoming lane, right smack in the middle of that lane, stood a little girl, no more than about two years old, in her hot pink, one-piece jammies. Sweet Jesus, she was just standing there! Now mind you, I don't live in a quiet suburban cul-de-sac. I live on a very busy ROAD! A car was sitting right in front of her, with a line-up of other cars behind him. They were just sitting there! I slammed on my brakes, threw my car in park, flung open my door, and ran over. Scooping her up in my arms, I took her to safety where I had left my car.
The driver of the first car took off, making sure he gave me a look of complete disdain and disgust. Apparently he mistook me for the child's parent or grandparent, and pronounced me the most irresponsible person he had ever seen. Whatever. The rest of the cars followed suit and were gone. I was left standing there with a little darling in hot pink jammies, and a wet bottom to boot.
She couldn't tell me her name. She couldn't tell me how old she was. When I asked her where her mama was, she pointed to about three different houses, repeating the word "mama" over and over again. I didn't want to put her in my car for obvious reasons, my phone was too far on the other side to grab without putting her in my car...can you sense that I'm out of breath just speaking of the thing! Right about then, a lady stopped her car and asked if we were okay. Um...no. She agreed to call the police for me, got out of her car, and waited with us. The police station is right on my corner, so our wait was only a matter of a couple of minutes.
After I explained what happened to the police officer, he took the child from me and proceeded to go across the street with her in tow. Just then, out came the "mama" from the corner house. Not running. Not a wee bit flustered. "I was in the bathroom", she said.
My maternal and grand-maternal temper wanted to scream, "without securing your doors? without making sure this kid was in a pack and play or SOMETHING? What were you doing in there all this time?" This doesn't even begin to address the dismay and anger I was feeling toward Mr. Look of Disdain and Disgust, who never thought for a blessed minute to get out of his car and pick that beautiful child up out of the street! I shudder at the many "what if's" and "what would have happens?"
After giving the police my driver's license information, I was able to leave and slowly pull away. What. was. THAT?!
THAT my precious friend, was God Himself!
Every last day of that pink-jammied little one's life, was ordained for her and written in her Heavenly Father's book before one of them came to be. Before the foundation of the world, His ever-watching and ever-loving eyes discerned her going out, literally into a busy road, on a sunny Wednesday morning in April. From eternity past, longer than we can fathom with our finite minds, He determined that no harm would come to her.
He would use a lunch date. He would make me late. He would send me in another direction. He would even give my beautiful friend a hankering for cream of broccoli soup. O the wonder of my Blessed Savior! I just can't get over Him! He is too much!
My man asked me if I was aware that I was a hero. He said that I saved that little girl's life. I was just part of a plan bigger than myself. An instrument. A willing vessel in a grand design. There was nothing of circumstance or coincidence or happenstance in this scenario. The One whose eye is on the sparrow, had His eye on His precious princess in pink pajamas.
HE is MY hero.