Bruce and I were scheduled to take a trip back to Jamaica in March. February rolled around and nothing seemed to be lining up. I couldn’t find anyone to work in the store during the time that we wanted to be there. I couldn’t get the flights at the right times, with the right connections or for the right price. I couldn’t get the hotel that we wanted. It seemed that every door was closing.
One afternoon as I was wandering around the store feeling pretty discouraged and dejected, I started arguing with God. Why wasn’t He paving the way for this trip? Why weren’t things falling in to place? Maybe I wasn’t really hearing what He was saying. Was I just dreaming? Were we really supposed to do this? I shut off the radio to listen. Maybe God was speaking but I was being too loud to hear Him?
Just about that time, a mom and her two daughters came in with a couple baskets of clothes for me to go through. At Here We Grow Again, we would buy gently used clothing from individuals. Like other resale shops, that’s how we got our inventory.
I started going through her baskets. I really didn’t feel like it. I wasn't finished sulking. But, I had a store to run. So, I did what I had to do. I tried to make a little conversation with mom and her kids. They weren’t very receptive or talkative.
Like I always did, I went through each item in the basket, pulled it out, and looked it over. She had several baskets, boxes and bags and bins. It was taking forever. Finally I was getting to the bottom of the last basket. I could finally make her an offer and send them on their way. I wanted to get back to feeling sorry for myself.
I pulled out the second to the last t-shirt and shook it out in front of me. In big, bold letters on the front it said “Jamaica”. I gasped. “Where did you all go in Jamaica?” I asked. “Jamaica? We have never been to Jamaica.” she said. So, I showed her the shirt. “I have no idea where that came from. I’ve never seen that shirt before.” The girls didn’t know either.
Huh. Well, isn’t that interesting? It was in the bottom of her basket. She thought for sure that I wouldn’t want to keep it. On the contrary, I hung it up behind the counter where I could see it every day as a reminder that God IS listening. Even when I argue with Him, sulk or feel sorry for myself. He chooses to comfort me in a way that only He can get though to me and get my attention. Even when I’m loud and can’t hear Him, He will still find a way to get through to me. And even though he doesn’t work on my time table, He is calling us.
I knew that it was okay if we didn't go back to Jamaica in March. We would go back when God showed us that the time was right.
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