Yesterday’s to-do list included the pleasure of picking up my firstborn at O’Hare Airport after not having seen him for ten months. Allowing the usual two hours to make that trip from Michigan, I added 45 minutes for a stop at Walmart to get groceries for Christmas Day.

The store was crowded, and I was in a big hurry.

After my list sent me to three of the four farthest corners of that expansive store, I was finally ready to check out – ten minutes “overtime” on my schedule. But when I found a line with only one customer, I was sure God was helping me.

I plunked my items on the belt double-time, piling them two and three deep to get them all on at once. The check-out girl said to the woman in front of me, “That’ll be $19. 70.”

The customer stood with her back to me, her purse in the cart’s baby seat, arms leaning on the push-bar. It was the posture of exhaustion. Her elbows never left the cart as she rummaged through her purse looking for payment. Tapping my toe and checking my phone, I mentally berated her for not having it all together.

As she continued rifling through her purse, she didn’t say a word. She didn’t even turn in my direction to say, “Sorry.” An eternity of four minutes passed, and I could feel the sweat breaking out beneath my down coat. Apparently she felt it too, because she stopped rummaging long enough to take her coat off, folding it into the cart next to her Walmart bags.

As I considered unloading the belt and rolling my cart to a different register, I heard from God (in my spirit). “Margaret, pay her bill and get ready to share your faith.”

“Good idea,” I thought. “Then I can finally get checked out!”

Obediently I put my hand on my purse but found it hard to turn off the frustration. But suddenly the woman produced a Walmart gift card and handed it to the checker, which turned out to be not enough to cover the bill. Lacking four dollars and change, she resumed digging while I pulled out my wallet. “But Lord,” I thought, “it might embarrass her to just hand her money. After all, she’s paid part of the bill now.”

I glanced at my phone. Five more painful minutes had passed when finally she produced a couple of crumpled bills and a handful of change. Her receipt rolled out of the cash register, the woman rolled her cart away, and my opportunity rolled up and died.

But God had something more to say.        [Next blog post]

We must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (Acts 20:35)