Last week, my wife and I were headed home from an appointment we had when she said, "Let's get pizza for supper."
I knew what that meant -- Little Ceasars. So, I drove the van the extra couple of miles to the nearest store to our home, and took one of my boys in to pick up supper.
Now, I have made this same trip to this same store dozens of times, and never has anyone called out my name. I mean, it would be cool if I walked in and everyone game me the Cheers-NORM treatment, but that has never happened...until last week.
You can call it ironic. I think it was providential.
That voice calling my name turned out to be a cousin who works on that side of Springfield. Her face had a look of desperation and a hint of relief, and she quickly explained that she had come to the pizza parlor to get a pie to take home. However, she locked her keys and phone in her car.
And, as is typical in the day of cell phones, she couldn't remember the phone numbers for her kids or her husband. But, she knew someone who did, and that someone was my sister.
Yeah, I know, crazy, but that's how it was...as crazy as Little Ceasars' bread sticks.
To think, we originally were going to have tacos for supper. My wife made a decision on the way home to get pizza instead. My cousin is in that same store trying to find help for her misfortune. And, I walk in.
You can't make this kind of stuff up. Sometimes, God orchestrates elorabate plans to help people in need. We never know when or where those times are going to come. All we can do is be ready to say, "Yes, Lord."
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