Day 112

Scripture: Ps 87; Ezekiel 34:11-16; 2 Timothy 4:1-8; John 21:15-19


Scripture standout: Ezekiel 34: "¹¹ “‘For this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I myself will search for my sheep and look after them. ¹² As a shepherd looks after his scattered flock when he is with them, so will I look after my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and darkness."


Morning thoughts: I have decided I do very well looking after my own two sheep — that is, I can get them where they need to go relatively on time, and without a panic in my stomach. Add one more, I start to get freaky. Add another, I start shaking — and throw in multiple other individuals' schedules and needs and I need to grab a pack of cigarettes and a box of chardonnay! Yet, I still say yes and still welcome more layers all the while. What the heck, am I a crazy shepherd? I prefer to think I might be a test shepherd — like a crash test dummy. When I welcome additional sheep, and things automatically get a little harrier, guess what happens? I shut down and just let the mayhem unfold in all its perfect beauty. I let someone else take the wheel. I focus less on my hair. I ignore the fact that my toes are gnarled and I need a pedi, badly. I grab jeans from the dirty clothes hamper. I don't stroll longingly by the natural cheese puff display because there's just not time for all that. I let go of the me's. And guess what? The end of the day comes and no one is hurt — too badly. I'm still alive, and my toes didn't snag much. And maybe by saying yes, more people are helped in some way and it's all — just fine.


His Deed/The Day: Oh yes. Today, I hit pay dirt. To be honest, I'd been feeling like I was running a little dry in the obvious and remarkable deed department. I had not experienced any major nudges in a while, that is — until I went to Chick Filet today with the boys.

I was behind a very tall teenager in the order line. He was taking a long time ordering. I wasn't annoyed just yet, but had begun to wonder what the heck could be taking a spring chicken so long to order — chicken.

Then he just turned and slinked away. He didn't have a tray. He left the lipstick-smeared cashier looking bewildered. We both watched the teenager slide into a booth with all his friends. Cashier lady looked back at her register and then at the tray of food that had arrived from the kitchen. She looked, perplexed.

Chick Fil A drama, I thought to myself! Yay! I leaned in for a wassup? The cashier explained that the young man's credit card didn't work, and she tried it four times. How much is it for, I asked? $7. Without hesitation I said I'd pay for it, and to include it with my order. She looked befuddled and excited. But not more befuddled than the willowy teenager in the booth when I slid the tray his way. Did he say thank you like a polite little teenager? Hell no! But it felt good to me...