Quote from Forum Archives on April 11, 2007, 12:50 pm

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

"Here's to T Bone Steaks, Yellow Roses and Friendship"

 

I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested inbuying groceries. I wasn't hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 7 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories.

He often came with me and almost every time he'd pretend to go

off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I'd

always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses

in his hands.

He knew I loved yellow roses. With a heart filled with grief,

I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery

shopping was different since he had passed on.

Shopping for one took time, a little more thought than it had for two.
Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak

and remembered how he had loved his steak.

Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blonde, slim and

lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large

package of T-bones, dropped them in her basket. Hesitated, and

then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the

package of steaks.

 

She saw me watching her and she smiled. "My husband loves

T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don't know."

 

I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue

eyes.

 

"My husband passed away eight days ago," I told her. Glancing

at the package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my

voice. "Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have

together."

 

She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she

placed the package in her basket and wheeled away.

 

I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to

the dairy products. There I stood, trying to decide which size milk

I should buy. A quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice

cream. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream

cone.

 

I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle

toward the front. I saw first the green suit, then recognized the

pretty lady coming towards me In her arms she carried a package. On

her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen. I would swear a

soft halo encircled her blonde hair as she kept walking toward me,

her eyes holding mine.

 

As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began

misting in my eyes. "These are for you," she said and placed three

beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. "When you go

through the line, they will know these are paid for." She leaned

over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again. I

wanted to tell her what she'd done, what the roses meant, but still

unable to speak, I watched as she walked away as tears clouded my

vision.

 

I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green

tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know?

Suddenly the answer seemed so clear. I wasn't alone.
Oh, you haven't forgotten me, have you? I whispered, with

tears in my eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel.

 

Every day, be thankful for what you have and who you are.

 

"Has God Ever Stomped On Your Chips?"

 

 

Recently, I had "one of those days". I was feeling pressure from a writing deadline. I had company arriving in a couple days and the toilet was clogged.

 

I went to the bank, and the trainee teller processing my deposit had to start over three times. I swung by the supermarket to pick up a few things and the lines were serpentine. By the time I got home, I was frazzled and sweaty and in a hurry to get something on the table for dinner.

 

Deciding on Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup, I grabbed a can opener, cranked open the can, then remembered I had forgotten to buy milk at the store. Nix the soup idea. Setting the can aside, I went to plan B, which was leftover baked beans. I grabbed a Tupperware from the fridge, popped the seal, took a look and groaned.

 

My husband isn't a picky eater, but even HE won't eat baked beans that look like caterpillars. Really frustrated, now, I decided on a menu that promised to be as foolproof as it is nutrition-free: hot dogs and potato chips.

 

Retrieving a brand new bag of chips from the cupboard, I grabbed the cellophane and gave a hearty pull. The bag didn't open. I tried again. Nothing happened.I took a breath,doubled my muscle, and gave the bag a hearty wrestle. With a loud pop, the cellophane suddenly gave way,ripping wide from top to bottom. Chips flew sky high. I was left holding the bag, and it was empty. It was the final straw.
I let out a blood curdling scream. "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!"

 

My husband heard my unorthodox cry for help. Within minutes he was standing at the doorway to the kitchen, where he surveyed the damage: an opened can of soup, melting groceries, moldy baked beans, and one quivering wife standing ankle deep in potato chips. My husband did the most
helpful thing he could think of at the moment. He took a flying leap,landing flat-footed in the pile of chips. And then he began to stomp and dance and twirl, grinding those chips into my linoleum in the process!

 

I stared. I fumed. Pretty soon I was working to stifle a smile.
Eventually I had to laugh. And finally I decided to join him. I, too, took a leap onto the chips. And then I danced.

 

Now I'll be the first to admit that my husband's response wasn't the one I was looking for. But the truth is, it was exactly what I needed.

 

I didn't need a cleanup crew as much as I needed an attitude adjustment, and the laughter from that rather funky moment provided just that.

 

So now I have a question for you, and it's simply this: Has God ever stomped on your chips? I know that, in my life, there have been plenty of times when I've gotten myself into frustrating situations and I've cried out for help, all the while hoping God would show up with a celestial broom and clean up the mess I've made of things.

 

What often happens instead is that God dances on my chips, answering my prayer in a completely different manner than I had expected, but in the manner that is best for me after all. Sometimes I can see right away that God's response was the best one after all.

 

Sometimes I have to wait weeks or months before I begin to
understand how and why God answered a particular prayer the way He did. There are even some situations that, years later, I'm still trying to understand.I figure God will fill me in sooner or later, either this side of Heaven or beyond.

 

Do I trust Him? Even when he's answering my prayers in a way that is completely different from my expectations? Even when he's dancing and stomping instead of sweeping and mopping? Can I embrace what He's offering?

 

Can I let His joy adjust my attitude? Am I going to stand on the sidelines and sulk, or am I willing to learn the steps of the dance He's dancing' with my needs in mind?

 

I'll be honest with you: Sometimes I s ulk. Sometimes I dance. I'm working on doing more of the latter than the former. I guess the older I get the more I realize that He really does know what He's doing. He loves me and I can trust Him. Even when the chips are down!
Author Unknown

 

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

 

Thanks Sue for sending this to us.

 

 

Have a Blessed Day
Dave and Barbara

 

 

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