WalMart--through the Father's eyes

How many of you like going to WalMart? Honestly, I love it: I know about every WalMart store front to back, even if I've never been in a particular one before. However, there's nothing special about WalMart. It's where I shop on a regular basis. My mom has spent hours in them, I have wandered aimlessly through them... It's just WalMart.

The point I'm trying to make is that WalMart is just an ordinary place... You don't find miracles at WalMart.

Or do you?

Last night, I walked into a WalMart with four friends. It was late--8:15 or something like that--and we had had a long day. Deciding on meeting back at the front in about 15 minutes, we split, Kezzia and I headed for the housewares section.

My feet hurt as I walked down the aisles. I was tired. I didn't need anything in WalMart. I should've sat in the car. On the other hand, it was dark, and everyone else needed something in this store.

"So what are you looking for?" Kezzia asked me.

"A way to keep from sitting in the car alone by myself in the dark," I countered.

That really was the only reason I was in there: to keep from being in the dark. Or so I thought.

We were almost to the back of the store when I decided making a trip to the restroom before we made our two-hour trip home wouldn't be a bad idea. I left Kezzia, telling her I'd be right back, and headed for the restroom at the back of the store.

Funny thing is, I never use the restrooms at the back of WalMart anymore: any WalMart. I don't know why; I just don't. But today, I did.

I pushed the door open ahead of me and breezed in, and to my surprise found three ladies standing by the sink: two in nice slacks and blouses, the other in a sweatshirt and jeans. The shortest of them, the one wearing the white sweatshirt and a baseball cap, was crying. Sobbing out answers to the gentle questions the other two were asking her. I listened in and discovered that she was having terrible family problems, and church problems... and friend problems. Then to top it off, her husband was going to be leaving the next morning at 4 AM. And she had kids. It was a heartbreaking story, made even more so by the sobs through which it was told.

I remember sighing. Lord, there's so much suffering in this world.


There is. And I've brought you here tonight to relieve a little of it.


That startled me. What? Me? Relieve what?

That's right. God's voice, although inaudible, seemed right next to my ear and louder than my silence. I brought you here tonight for a purpose. 


Lord, what possible purpose could I have? I'm in WalMart, of all places, and there's a stranger crying in the bathroom. That has nothing to do with me.


Ignoring my arguments, God then dropped the clincher. I want you to hug her. 


I was thoroughly startled. Was that my own thought? No...it couldn'tve been. No way.

Lord, are You kidding me? I can't hug that lady! I don't know her, nor does she know me. And besides, she doesn't look like the people I'm used to being around. 


My child, when I came to earth, the world did not know Me. Nor did those I reached out to in love look like those I was used to being around. 


Point taken. It really was true. But how could I just walk up to a stranger, and a crying one at that, and offer a hug? To my friends, my family, sure; but a stranger?

I washed my hands behind the three ladies, listening to their conversation. One of the nicely dressed ladies, both of which had just come from a church function, asked the sobbing lady about counseling.

"No, no, we can't go to counseling," she replied heartbrokenly, around a sob. "You just don't understand."

I dried my hands off, using the air dryer (and I hate those things!) to stall for time. I knew that if I walked out of that restroom, my conscience would torment me. But what else could I do?

Turning around, I stared at all three, listening shamefully. It was a little embarrassing standing there, openly eavesdropping, but something held me rooted to the spot. I couldn't do anything more than stand and listen.

Lord, there's no opportunity for me to say anything. They keep talking, and I don't want to interrupt. 


Are you willing? God seemed to want to be sure I really was willing.

Yes, Lord; I'm willing, but I'm scared to death.

Wait. 


So I did.

Moments ticked past, and I stood there in silence. One of the two listeners looked at me through the mirror and smiled sadly. I was pretty sure she wanted to know why I was just standing there, but I reasoned she'd find out.

Then the moment came. The talking ceased, and the crying lady moved towards me to throw a tear-soaked paper towel in the trash can. Almost instantly, I felt a "push" from behind and an inaudible whisper caused me to step. Now. 


I held my arms out just a little, and asked "Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?"

The little lady stopped, eyes on the floor; frozen to the spot in disbelief. She was trying to comprehend what I had just asked, and I could tell it shook her up. Face contorting to control the tears, she finally whispered a feeble yes, and I hugged her.

The sobbing that that hug produced exceeded anything I have ever seen in anyone in my life, excepting myself. I have never had anyone sob in my arms like that lady did that night. She sobbed long and loud, and I couldn't say anything, but felt a warm glow creeping all over me. Lord, this must be Your love; it certainly isn't mine.


This is why you're here, My child...So you can begin learning what My love is all about.


Finally, I told her I'd be praying for her. She sobbed a thank you. Then, under inspiration I believe, I said, "Trust Jesus; He has it all under control."

One of the ladies watching must've nodded, and replied, "She's absolutely right. He does."

I didn't hold her very much longer after that, but when I left it was amid broken and sobbed thank you's, repeated over and over. The bathroom door closed behind me... And that is likely the last time I will ever see that lady on this earth.

As I walked down the aisle to find Kezzia, tears threatened to fill my eyes. My throat tightened. Lord, did I really just do that?


No, daughter... I did. You were willing, and now you've felt a taste of what My love really is like. My love includes strangers, and even the unlovable. 


I see that, Lord. I've so rarely felt that warmth of true love as I just did back there. 


You will live to feel it again, My child------if you're willing.


I'm willing Lord... I'm willing. 


Don't ever tell me that miracles can't happen at WalMart. Or anywhere else for that matter.


God wants to use you... Are you willing?