Walk by Faith

"I want to talk to somebody who works here."

I looked up from behind the counter at the bookshop. The voice belonged to a thirty-something man with wide eyes and wringing hands.

I smiled, "How can I"

"I want to talk to somebody who works here," he said again. I looked down...yes, I did have on my name-tag... the man turned to Bunty, a white-haired woman who has aged gracefully with her colorful clothes and her high pitched British voice.

"I need to talk to somebody who works here, privately," he said.

Bunty and I looked at each other, "You will have to talk with Paul (he was the only man at the shop today), but he is at the post office right now. If you wait, he can talk to you when he gets back.

The man walked nervously around the shop, waiting for Paul to return. He reminded me of the first night my family ate out in Savannah. We had gone to a hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop, and were just finishing as a man stumbled in towards the counter. I need help. We all heard him say. I'm suicidal, please help me. The cashier called the cops and paramedics came to help the man. But we don't have paramedics in the shop.

I really was concerned, for the man, and for Bunty and myself. The man hung around the counter for a while, looking desperate. Finally Paul came.

I didn't actually see the man leave, testimony to his quick exist, but I was told he left in a huff.

"What happened Paul? What did he say?"

"It came down to, he wanted money. When I told him our store doesn't give out money, he stormed out..." So that was it.

Apart from that excitement, today was a non-traumatic, easy-going day. A good day. An "it's already time to go home?!" day, which was far from what I thought it would be this morning.

I woke up this morning with an uneasy feeling. I had tossed and turned throughout the night, and had a disturbing dream right as I was waking. Shaking that off I had my quiet time with God, showered, made my bed, and ate breakfast (peanut butter and pretzels--yum). I also made a mental note that there was only one meal left in my cupboards--butternut squash soup--I needed to go shopping.

I felt a little queazy on the train, but attributed it to dehydration. I drank water and "pressed" coffee at the shop, needing the energy and the liquid.

But even before the shop opened, the day turned brighter. During staff prayer, I was humbled to come into God's presence so boldly with my brother and sisters. As the shop opened, my first customer was an older, bubbly African woman, who was more than happy to laugh and talk with me. I was given two projects to do (during one of which I learned how to laminate--new favorite thing to do!). Lunch was quite tasty, and the sunshine was brilliant outside.

I did go grocery shopping. I bought bread, cereal, pasta, sauce, juice, etc, etc. But most exciting of all du du dah! RASPBERRIES!! I came home and indulged in a hearty supper and then dessert, with my favorite berry covering a mound of ice cream. I washed the dishes and swept the floor. I said hello to friends and family through chat and e-mail, and now I am sitting contentedly upon my bed. It was a great day.