In late November 2013, a couple of weeks after meeting Alex, I was looking around on the computer to find the address and phone number of a resale shop in town. With six kids, someone is always out growing something or needing something new. In the past I have taken things to the resale shop to sell, and then put the money toward something else.
As I was searching, I ran across a post on the resale shop Facebook page from the owner saying that she was interested in selling. It was dated about a year before, and I didn’t think too much more about it. I guess I was really busy at the time so I never actually ever made it in to the store.
For the next couple of weeks, the thought of buying and taking over this resale shop kept coming back to my mind. I finally decided to call. I thought if I just heard once and for all that it had already sold and changed hands I could forget about it and let it go. And that would be that. Great, I thought. Let’s get this over with. So, I looked up the phone number and called.
The owner, Kelly, answered the phone. No, she had not sold the store. Yes, she was still interested in selling. I asked a few questions, wrote down some information, and we hung up. It was a lot of money. And a lot of work. No thanks. I’m not interested, I told myself.
A few days later, I told Bruce about the phone call. And I told him that I really wasn’t interested. She wanted too much money, I didn’t have time, and I had lots of other reasons. I dismissed it.
In January, I was still thinking about this store. I had driven by it, but had not gone in. Bruce and I went to Florida for a conference. I was still talking about it then. I told myself that I would call sometime after we got back. The day after we returned, I got an email from Kelly. She contacted me before I even got the chance to reach out to her. So, Bruce and I decided to go in and talk to her.
We thought it would be fun, I could get out of the house some, meet new people, and share with people about our vision for Jamaica. So, we came to some terms that we thought we could agree with, and I took over the children’s resale shop at the beginning of February.
We spent hours and hours cleaning, organizing, and rearranging things. I was having a blast! I took my mom with me to work almost every day and she helped me steam clothes before we hung them on the racks. My dad came and washed windows and fixed things that were broken. Bruce made big bright signs and came in and hung them up on the walls and from the ceiling. Our kids came along and straightened hangers, cleaned, and organized racks. Sometimes the older kids worked at the store running the cash register when I had to take an hour or two off. It was so much fun!
I was meeting so many new people. And almost every day, someone had a story to tell me. Many times the stories were about Jamaica. Someone had visited there or knew someone who had visited there. But most of the time the stories were about a family situation, or a job, or a sickness, or something different. Often times the store would be full of shoppers, and suddenly everyone would file out, leaving only one person left. He or she would come to the counter or sit down on the bench next to me and start to share something that was going on in his or her life. These people would absolutely bear their souls to me. And I would listen. Sometimes people would cry. And often, I would cry with them. Many times someone would ask for prayer. So, I prayed with them. It became almost like a game for me to see who God would bring in for me to meet. Bruce and I determined that until we could be in Jamaica, this was my ministry. Right here. Right now.
I knew that through this store and specifically through this process, that God was teaching me, stretching me and growing me. For as long as I can remember, I have always gone a hundred miles an hour in ten different directions at once. I was always in a frantic rush, hurrying from one thing to the next. But, here’s the thing: when someone is crying and asking you to pray for them, you shouldn’t be thinking about the phone ringing or the trash that has to go out. You should be listening. When someone is sharing their personal story with you, asking for help and prayer, you need to learn to shut out the distractions.
I could see that’s what God was really working on in me. I have probably never been a good and focused listener. Each time that this scenario would repeat itself - and it was pretty often, actually - I would have to make a real effort to slow my actions down, stop my thoughts, and just listen. And the more that I practiced at it, the better I got and the more natural it became. Some days it is still a challenge. But I am learning to have peace through this process.
As my friend, Missy, told me last year, “Everyone has a story; we all just want someone to listen.” And so, thanks, Missy. I’m learning how to do just that.
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