No Soap Opera

Man, I feel like I need a blog a day to keep up with all that's going on.  I'll need to tell you later about the "Walk A Mile In My Shoes" flip-flop drive that had my house full of flip-flops to be put into cartons and tubs for storage this weekend.

I started the morning working on those flip-flops and then decided to switch gears to start sorting the 500+ stuffed animals that were donated in the midst of the flip-flop deluge so I could start the washing process on those that needed to be freshened.

I'd barely started the sorting when my phone rang.  It was a truck driver letting me know she was a mile from my storage container with a load of five pallets of soap I ordered two weeks ago.

The company that produces the soap was supposed to send me a bill of lading when it was shipped.  They did not.

I asked them to have the trucking company call to schedule the delivery.  They did not.

I've been praying about this delivery ever since I placed the order--asking God to work out all the details since I've had so many problems with deliveries in the past.

Now here I was scrambling again.  But, you know, God really did have it all planned out.

My husband wasn't working on a job today, and I was able to call him and ask him to come to the church to help unload the delivery.  Pam, another team member, also agreed to come.

God gave me grace to get to Grace Church in good time and the sweet truck driver had just dropped two of the five pallets.  We struck up a conversation and she knew about Operation Christmas Child and had participated at churches she attended in the past.

"I hate to drop this load," she said, "because it makes my trailer smell so good."

My husband arrived soon and we started to unwrap the pallets and carry the soap into the container while still chatting with the driver.  I showed her a few pictures of past OCC packing parties and explained our process.

I also told her she was a part of the project and her work was making an important difference for kids around the world by getting this soap to us.

When it came time for her to leave, she said she wished she could stay to help us unload but just couldn't.  I told her I understood and asked if I could pray for her.

She grabbed my hands and I prayed for her safety and for her to know how much God loves her.  Then we hugged.

She hugged me really hard and really long, then, with wet eyes she said, "I had a really hard weekend, so this helps make it better."

"Anything special I can pray for?"  I asked, and she replied, "No.  Just life."

It's just life.  Not a soap opera.  But for a moment we shared our lives over 27,000 bars of soap.