"Ben" Here

Hallelujah! Yes, that will be the vein-vine- and branches of this post. So this is a reader alert: If you have a problem with God's name as praise and not a profanation, then this is not the post for you. However, should you want to hear an amazing tale of Abba Father's monetary blessings- please keep reading. I have changed the name of the gift-giver to "Ferdinand".

This morning started out like any other morning- early. I stopped by my Supervisor's shop to drop off flowers that I had pulled from the bed in the front yard. These very hardy Dianthus -they're usually annuals- had not only survived the Winter but had grown into clumps the size of footballs- lovely fuchsia ones.

One of my co-workers, Ferdinand, had requested them for his yard to please his daughter, whose boyfriend's name is "William", and these flowers are AKA "Sweet Williams". Everybody say "aww, how sweet".

I went to my work site after wishing everyone a "Have A Great Weekend" and was doing normal Shaungrl stuff in my shop. The door opened and in stepped Ferdinand. He started walking towards me saying, "You believe in doing what the Lord tells you to do. Right? To do what He lays on your heart to do?" I respond, "of course, always, dude", still thinking this was a lighthearted moment. Ferdinand walks up and hands me a rolled-up, money-colored piece of paper. "Well, the Lord told me to give this to you."

I can tell it has a one and a zero on it. I gasp, though, as I unroll it and there is another zero. "Ben" is sitting in my hand- $100 blessed dollars- no earthly strings attached. All I could do is stammer "thank you and God bless you, too." Ferdinand was already heading to the door. As men usually do a quick exit when women are about to cry uncontrollably, even if it is from joy.

I mentioned "no earthly strings attached". I thought I might need to define my relationship with this co-worker. We discuss things of God and blessings He has given. And also the heartbreaks and trials He didn't keep from us, but that He did shepherd us through. He tells me about his wife and how much she and his family bless him. I am his sister and he is my brother in the family of Jesus. Branches on the same Living Vine.

"Why me?" could be followed with "Why not me?". I don't know why I was the recipient of one-hundred dollars this day. Most employees at the City are in paycheck-to-paycheck status. I have no worse need than others and usually have all the bills covered. While we do talk about godly things, Ferdinand was not privy to an in depth study of my finances. He was just being the vessel through which God chose to pour out blessings. And although I am in a state of wonderment- I am not confused- for I trust God implicitly.

I am privileged to serve a good, loving God, who Is, Was, and Is To Come. Meaning He already knows of and provides for my needs. As to my wants...well. He takes care of me as if I were His only child- I am not compared to anyone else. What one child needs is different than what another needs. He cares more about the content of my character than the comfort of my body. I know I am deeply cherished by Abba Father, even if at times, my comfort level is a bit thorny.(We can complain that roses have thorns or rejoice that thorns have roses.-- Ziggy) And this day He chose to comfort my body even as He always comforts my spirit. Hallelujah! again.

Lions and Tigers and Goats, oh my.

It was a hot, quiet afternoon and I was holed-up inside having just come home from work. The quiet part was changed instantly by a knock on the door. The furkids (still need to introduce them) erupted into their "I'm going to eat you/pet my tummy" canine opera. Still haven't posted that "my dog eats every third salesman, the second one just left" sign on the front door, yet. The salesman stated he was selling great steaks at very reasonable prices. I don't buy meat from the back of trucks in August in Texas, I tell him. He nervously laughs and says "no, we take orders and bring it out to you". I wondered why he was fidgeting and as I followed the glance he made over his shoulder, the reason became apparent. Buddy the goat had followed him from the neighbor's house.

We now, ironically, have unpackaged meat on the hoof chasing a meat salesman. The rather burly manly-man says in a voice that was, by now squeaking, "I don't do goats, make him go away". Buddy, at that precise moment, happily clip-clops up the stairs and onto the porch. He wanted to play with the nice man, like he does with his human 'Daddy' at home. I have watched Buddy and his Dad play and charge each other with lowered heads, without ever once striking each other. However, cheap-steak man knows nothing of this ritual and sees himself about to become goat chow. I grabbed Buddy's horn and let the man make a hurried dash for his truck. I, evilly (who ME), let go of said goat horn. Did you know that a goat can outrun a salesman; even if the salesman is given a headstart?

The man would have made a promising football player (or ballerina)- the moves he made were executed with style and grace. Both arms stretched out fully in front, with fingers widely splayed trying to fend off the wildly bouncing demon goat. All the while, his cute butt (hey, it was) was stuck fully out the opposite way. To his credit, no girlie-scream was ever emitted while he did the goat dance- the only sound heard was me snorting the held back laughter. He dived into the passenger side of the truck, slammed the door and thereby, saved his own meat so to speak. I escorted Buddy safely home, all the while chuckling and murmuring thanks to him for the delightful respite he provided on a hot August day in Texas.