It doesn’t take much to make me happy. I’m really a pretty simple girl. Walking barefoot in the grass makes me happy. Hearing my children laugh makes me happy. Drinking coffee makes me happy. Running makes me happy. Cleaning out something makes me happy. Summer time makes me happy. Spending time with my little family makes me happy. Spending one-on-one time with members of my family makes me very happy.
This morning my oldest and I took her younger sister to jazz class and then headed the van towards McDonalds‘ drive-thru. I have, among other things, a very short memory. I forgot I had decided I had consumed too many of their iced coffee‘s last week and this week I was not having any. My girl wanted a shake and so while I was there I knew I had to have an iced coffee. I compromised with myself and ordered a medium instead of a large.
The voice in the box told me my total and suggested I pull around to the first window and my foot jumped off the brake and eased onto the gas when I noticed the gentleman in the next lane over was also starting to go. Oh no, who was actually first? He motioned for me to go first and I shrugged and said, “I don’t know who was first”, he responded again with motioning me to go first and said, “Whatever.”
So I nosed ahead of him in line and was struck with a flash of genius. Because he was so kind to let me go first, we would pay for his order. No matter what amount it was.
I pulled up to the window, greeted the girl and told her I also wanted to pay for the man behind me. She took the money I offered in payment for our order. Then told me what the man’s total was, “do you want me to take it out of this $5?”
She handed me my change back and I said, “Please just tell him, ‘Jesus paid for it.'” Her face lit up like the midnight sky on the Fourth of July. She did a little fist pump and said, “YES!”
I was dancing in the front seat. Because not only did I serve Jesus by serving that man (whom I don’t know), but I learned our favorite McDonalds’ drive-thru worker is more than likely a fellow believer. (Yes, I base that solely on her reaction.)
It did my heart no end of good to see her response. In fact two hours later I’m still positively giddy over it.
We probably made the man’s day but really it was my day that was made. There is just something about serving Jesus by serving others that does a body good. I have no idea of the man’s spiritual state and really it doesn’t matter as I would have done it regardless, but I know at least a seed was planted.
And that’s all I’m really called to do.
7 thoughts on “In which my day is made”
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