Monday, August 30, 2010

How God weaves the fabric

Today was a dance day, which means that L had to be at the studio for a 3:30 class with all the appropriate clothing and two pairs of shoes in hand. It's a challenge to get her there in time. Today we pulled into the parking lot with 8 minutes to spare, but I noticed that there was a small crowd of people gathered around a dark haired lady lying on the ground. Not good.

But let me back up a few months. This story does not begin on the parking lot of the dance studio. It began with a jeep, a few paper vines, and popsicles.

At the beginning of summer, our church was trying to get the word out about our upcoming VBS. Several people were going to walk around the neighborhood, handing out free popsicles and flyers. The event was planned for a Saturday, but the popsicles, for some strange reason, didn't freeze and it had to be postponed until Sunday. I couldn't go on Saturday, but Sunday was free.

Some of us met at the church and we decorated a jeep with all kinds of palm branches and paper vines and stuffed monkeys to go with our rainforest-themed VBS. We blasted ice cream truck music and we chose just a few streets to walk since the weather was sweltering. At one point I was bringing up the rear of the group and a dark-haired woman came out of a house behind me, calling to get my attention. She had heard about our VBS and wanted to sign up her young daughter. We chatted for several minutes while I filled out a registration card and the rest of the group disappeared around a corner. I had to race to catch up.

Soon afterwards, VBS started and the little girl came every day. She had a wonderful time, even winning a prize for memorizing Bible verses. Every day she stood with her group right in front of me as I helped to lead the singing.

Over the summer, we saw each other fairly often at the neighborhood pool. I'd wave or talk for a couple of minutes with her parents. It wasn't much, but it was nice to know a couple more people at our pool.

Our dance classes started up a few weeks ago and I was surprised and pleased to see the little girl and her parents there. It was strange that we had both chosen the same studio. I mean, it's a fabulous studio, but it is about 20 minutes away from our neighborhood. In a different city. In a different state.

Today, when we pulled in I recognized the little girl standing in the parking lot and saw that it was her mother lying on the ground. As they were walking into the studio, a driver had failed to look and backed right into them. The little girl wasn't hurt, but her mother was having painful spasms in her legs. I found a small bag to put under her head and some screens to block the sun from her face until the ambulance arrived. But the most important thing I could do for her was to assure her that I would take care of her daughter.

Because of VBS and the pool, both mother and daughter knew me and trusted me.

Because our girls' dance classes are at the same studio near the same time, I was there and I could get her daughter to class like the mother wanted.

Because we handed out popsicles and I had talked to her at her house, I knew where she lived and could take her daughter home to her husband (he recently had a stroke and can't drive).

Because I was walking at the back that day, she managed to catch me before we moved on.

Because K's softball coach had a meeting tonight, she didn't have practice and I had time to wait on the little girl and take her home.

A string of mere coincidences? No.

A series of carefully orchestrated events so that one little girl would be cared for and one big God would be glorified.

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