Every little miracle along the way encouraged us. I enlisted the help of my son Chris to help me get paperwork I needed from Nevada to save me a trip. He gladly managed the task immediately and sent the papers off–express mail. A couple of days later, after checking the mailbox and porch a dozen times, I began to wonder why I hadn’t seen the delivery .
The next day I called Chris to check on it. Yes, he had mailed it. It was supposed to have already arrived. Feeling a bit pedantic, I questioned Chris about the address. It seemed silly to ask since he had lived there for a number of months, but why not cover all bases?
“Uh, I think I might have written the number wrong, Mom. I’m so sorry,” he confessed miserably.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” I tried to comfort him while I held back tears. “God will work it out. He knows where it is. Thanks. I love you.”
Easy for me to say to my son, but immediately I struggled to believe the very words I had just spoken. I had no clue what to do. Should I have Chris get the paperwork again? Should I check with the post office? Could they track it? I prayed. I asked God if I should do something or wait. I thanked him that he at least knew where the papers were even if I had no clue how to find them. The doorbell rang. A fairly rare occurrence in the middle of the morning.
I opened the door to find our old mail carrier on my front deck holding—yes, you guessed it—the envelope from Chris. I’m sure I must have gaped.
“Is this yours?” He handed me the missing parcel somewhat apologetically.
“Yep. That’s me…but how did you…?”
“It’s a crazy story really. I haven’t worked this route for almost a year now, but I’m filling in for the other carrier today. When I saw the name on this, I thought I remembered you living here, even though the address on it is wrong. On a fluke, I felt like I should bring it to your door and see if it was yours. ” He shuffled his weight back on forth in what seemed as hesitant discomfort.
“You have no idea how important these papers are to me. I need them to apply for a visa for my fiancé to come here to marry me. Thank you so much for checking on this. I can’t tell you how much it means to me!” I felt the tears getting ready to burst forth.
“Well, I’m glad I followed that hunch! Good to know it got into your hands. Best wishes on your situation,” he added as he made his way down the steps. Maybe he sensed my impulsive desire to throw myself at him in a grateful hug.
“So am I!! Thanks again. For everything. Have a great day!”
I ran upstairs to tell God thank you and sorry for doubting him in the first place. Only he could have planned for that situation to be worked out. My heart cried out to the Lord in repentance and thanksgiving and into my mind there flooded verses of encouragement.
Is My arm too short, Laura? Do I speak and not act? Do I promise and not fulfill? Do I lack the strength to rescue you? Trust me beloved.