THANKSGIVING
Sitting in a little Truck Stop just outside of Birmingham, on I-65, and considering the weather I had just driven through, I should have been thankful to be alive. The summer night's heat had given birth to a horrific storm. The wind and rain had been so intense, that it became impossible to see, much less drive.
Like I said, I should have been thankful, but the pressures of this world were heavy on my shoulders and mind. I had many miles yet to drive before I reached my destination, and every hour that passed with me sitting there was putting me further behind. I had seriously begun to contemplate if God ever really bothered to listen to my prayers, and, what, with all the pressures on me, I was beginning to wonder if He really cares?
My wife was due with our second child any day, and that would sure be a mess of Doctor Bills I knew I couldn't pay. My son (all boy through and through for true) had fell out of a tree and broke his arm just last month, and the Hospital's Collection Agency was already sending me Bills marked Overdue. My truck needed new tires, an oil change wouldn't hurt, and the Insurance Payment was late. I don't know if any of you have jammed gears for a living, but if you did, then some of this might sound familiar to you. 'Course, if any of you ever had kids, or a hard row to hoe, then I guess, you could identify too. As you can see, I wasn't in the most thankful of moods, but I'd been straddling that white line long enough to know that storms don't last forever, and, provided there ain't picture taking Locals between here and the loading dock in Mobile, I could still be home in a day or two.
Just then, the annoying tinkling of that silly little bell they had hanging over the Cafe door, interrupted my rainy night's gloom. An old man, with a wooden cane, was struggling with the wind whipped door. He was so drenched from the nights rain, that in just seconds, there was a puddle around his worn out shoes, there on the floor. His cloths were Factory Direct from the closest dumpster would be my best guess, and that old hat on his head had long ago lost any shape or distinguishable color. He really was a sorry looking mess.
It was such a relief to see someone worse off than me, that I motioned to the Waitress, and she brought the old man my way. I invited him to sit and asked what his pleasure would be. He rubbed his tired old eyes with wrinkled, grubby hands, and said a Ham Sandwich and a cup of Coffee. As the water puddled on the table top from the tattered cuffs of his faded old green Army coat, he thanked me for my kindness, and wondered if I was going to eat? I just took another sip of too hot, too strong Truck Stop java, and thought about all the miles to drive I still had ahead of me. When the Waitress brought over his sandwich and coffee, the old man bowed his head and said a prayer of thanks for this breaking of bread.
A wry smile crossed my lips, and I was glad he couldn't see the questioning look I sent his way. "Say, old man, just what has God done for you today?" He was such a useless wreck of a man, that I couldn't for the life of me how he fit into God's Master Plan. He lifted his head from prayer, and smiled at me: "Well son, there are so many blessings the Lord has given me today, that it's hard to know where to start. I guess, this here sandwich and coffee would be as good a place as any. I'm alive, and getting by, and Lord willing, I'll have a dry place to sleep tonight. But, for now, this here sandwich and coffee are a blessing sure worth saying thanks for."
"You really think God listens to our prayers? You really think, with all of Creation out there for Him to watch over, that when it comes to our meaningless lives, He really cares?"
The old man wiped some crumbs from the grey, white stubble covering his chin, and, tilting his head slightly to one side, said: "Shhh, If you listen close, you can hear the still, soft voice deep inside you. And it lets you know that He really, really does care."
My doubts were obvious, as I replied: "Old man, you probably never had more than a handful of change in your life, and even now you can't pay for your food."
Through smiling yellow teeth he said: "No, but I've never gone to bed hungry a day in my life, how about you?"
Well, I began to tell him about my life. Don't ask me why I chose to pour out my heart to that dirty bum of an old man, but I did. I went from A to Z, and left nothing out, it was the proverbial Open Book, with nothing hid from him. "So, now you see, old man, a prayer of thanksgiving isn't high on my list of things to do."
That old man leaned back in the chair, and looked right into me. "Your boy, he's alive, and that arm will heal won't it? Iv'e known other children who have been crippled, or even died from a fall like that. 'Course, you might not see any reason for thanks there. Your wife, she's in good health, and the baby is ok too? I reckon there's been more than one woman that's had problems with pregnancy, but there's no need for thanks there, surely not from you.
A while back, when you passed that wreck on I-65, did you know that none of the people involved made it out alive? If you hadn't slowed down a mile or two before, you reckon you would have been in the middle of that pile up? Yeah, your right, nothing there to be thankful for. All them Bills and such you worry about, this ain't the first time you've gone through such a spot, and hasn't God always provided you with a way out? Yeah, your right, no need for prayers of thanks, least wise, not during our darkest hours eh? We save them for when the sun is shinning bright, and the Brass Ring on the Carousel is ours."
Well, I sat there looking like the biggest fool on either side of the Mississippi. That old man got up, and donning his hat on his head like some European Prince, shuffled on over to the door, and, just before he left, he paused, and looked back my way.
"Son, God loves you. That's for true. And He hears every word you say or pray, even the ones you don't particularly want Him to. Even so, He still loves you." Then, out the door he went, and just plain disappeared. I don't mean left. I mean disappeared! He wasn't anywhere. You can believe me, or not, I don't really care. This ain't the first time I've told this story, and you ain't the first to give me that "He should be in an Institution" look. I got up to see if he might just be hiding outside the door, but, no, he wasn't there.
Then, I noticed it had stopped raining, and the stars were beginning to appear. And then, it really got weird, and you will never believe me. The Waitress came over and asked if I had enjoyed my Ham and Cheese on Rye, and did I need a refill on my coffee, or, there was Apple Pie I could try. I must have looked like the dumbest man in the world because I just stared at her. And then, I looked over at my table and the sandwich plate and only one coffee cup were sitting in front of my chair. I got chills all over, and just told her I was fine, and if she would give me the check, I'd be on my way. I told her to be sure to add the old man's check to mine.
She looked at me as if I was in sure fire need of some sort of Medication: "What old man?" she asked. Well, I didn't have an answer for that, and from the look on her face, I sure didn't feel like trying to back up and explain the events of that night, especially since I was still trying to figure out how that old man knew there had been a wreck on I-65, and that I had just missed it, thank the Lord. And, oh my goodness, just then, deep inside me, I honest to God heard a still, soft voice say: "Your welcome, my child, your welcome."
You can probably remember the most embarrassing moment of your life in great detail, and there are some that might figure that this was mine, but if they do, then they are dead wrong. Right there, in that Cafe door, I hit my knees, and with tears as huge as the storm that had come before, I said a prayer of thanksgiving, and apologized for a whole lot more. Then with a "God bless you," to the Waitress, I run out that door.
I don't remember how long I took getting to Mobile, or even remember the trip home. Somehow, I was on time to unload, and the Boss was so pleased that I had made it, when none of the other Drivers had because of the storm, that he turned around right there and gave me a big old Bonus Check! It was more than enough to pay for Junior's broken arm. That very day, my wife gave birth to a lovely little girl, and while we were talking and cooing to our little angel like foolishly loving parents do, my wife asked me if I was worried about the Bills that would soon be at our door.
"No, hon, I'm not worried about them, I'll just say a prayer, and trust in God's grace, and not do any worrying no more."
So, what's the moral of this story your asking me? Well, I've given it some thought, and I don't know if you will believe me or not, but I believe it, and that's for sure. Each time life starts to get me down, and I start forgetting all the blessings God bestows upon me each and every day, I remember that stormy night, that old man, and that Scripture that says "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
And, late at night, when all the family is asleep, I slip away to a dark room downstairs, and I pray: "Thank You God, for me and my family. For each and every day. But, most of all, I want to thank You for Your Son. Because like the words says, had it not been for a place called Mt. Calvary, had it not been for the old rugged cross, had it not been for a man called Jesus, then forever my soul would be lost. Thank you Lord, thank you.
Shhh, listen..........
p.rehbein
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