The way He talks….

I am always amazed (and always want to be) by the way God speaks to me.

Some believe in an audible voice and I’m sure that happens to some.  For me, it’s the voice in my heart where the Holy Spirit lives.  It’s audible to me but it comes from inside me, not a booming voice from the clouds.

Friday is trash day in the neighborhood in which we live.  Most folks put their trash out on Thursday night.  As I was walking Sparky that evening I walked by a perfectly good white shelving unit a few houses down from mine.  No damage, just dirty.  I looked at it for a few minutes and then decided to knock on the door to see if the home-owner minded me taking it.  What a perfect excuse to meet my neighbors, right??  The funny part was the man who owned the house I had already met and he was watching me from his window checking out his trash.  I can only imagine what he was thinking.

As I went to the door a face appeared in the glass beside the door.  He opened the door, laughing, and said, “Caught ‘cha!”

I admitted to him, “Yes you did.  Can I steal your trash???”

“Sure! Take whatever you want.”

So off I go with Sparky in one hand and wheeling the shelving down the street with the other, honestly hoping not a soul was going to see me.  Yep, call me Fred Sanford.  My youngest son was riding his bike up the street looking for me and offered, “Where did you get that mom?”

“From the trash.”

“For free?”

“Yep!”

“Cool.”

Putting the white shelving in the garage and planning to clean it later I continued my walk in the other direction down the street with my son riding his bike.  There we found a filing cabinet, two chair floats for the pool, a hose box (one of those things you role your hose into) and a small piece of hose that fit perfectly from our faucet to the pool so I can add water when needed.

Yea, I sniffed through there trash as if I’d found gold.  Another chance to meet a neighbor, right?

Knock, Knock.

“Hi, I’m your new neighbor, Julie, from down the street.  Can I steal your trash?”

(I just have to laugh at myself recounting my antics.)

“Sure, take whatever you want.”

Meanwhile, the neighbor across the street is checking me out checking out my neighbor’s trash.  He walks over and offers me his wheel barrow to tote the load down to my house telling me I can take whatever I want from the neighbor’s trash pile.  “He won’t mind.”

The wheel barrow man was a very interesting man who worked for Home Land Security until 2 months ago.  He’s a retired Navy officer.  Funny as can be with a German wife and a 45 year old son who just returned home after a divorce.  His nickname for me now is Fred, as in Fred Sanford from Sanford and Sons.  Remember the show?  He ran a junk yard?

That’s him on the right.  Ok, so maybe some of you are a little young to remember that but it was a great show from my childhood.

To continue with my trash story……

As I was putting all my “finds” in the garage God quietly spoke to my heart telling me, “See how I take care of you? It’s never like you think I will.”  He’s WAY too creative for that.  He likes blowing my mind.  It lets me know He is God and I am not.  And it lets me see His creativity at work, first hand.  Makes me wish I had been around when he made the rhino and the giraffe.

The same day my new friend and neighbor brings me about 8 squares of carpet samples from her husband’s store.  He runs a flooring business and always has old carpet samples.  Now I have rugs to wipe your feet on when coming in from the pool or in the front door.  Most were a very short piling but one of the ones she brought me reminds me of my favorite rug at home.  It’s green shag.  It’s a little darker than the one in SC but it feels SO good on my feet.  Odd that I placed that one in the bathroom on the tile in front of the toilet.  Now, each time I, well, you know, I’m reminded of her and of God’s provision for me.  Odd thinking of people and The Creator in the bathroom but He talks to me a lot there.  So, hey, whatever works!!

The following day (yesterday) the same friend brings me a paper grocery bag full of Panera Bread.  Their church gets all the leftover bread they can’t sell.  Of course it is still perfectly good.  Their church members get some and they distribute some to the needy.

Bread.

God.  The bread of life….

…a sack full, overflowing and smelling like Panera heaven.

And once again overwhelmingly free.

He’s an amazing God, providing for me in ways that blow my mind.

“I love you Lord!”

julie


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