On the way to the airport this afternoon Ally, Kara and I stopped at Target. The nearest Target is an hour away, so it is never cost or time effective to go there just to shop, but I always stop when I'm on the way to anywhere. We shopped. But our joy at finding dish soap on clearance, and having a coupon for the same item, was brought to a sudden halt when Kara locked the keys in the car.
There we were an hour from home, and half an hour from the airport, and my dad was landing in half an hour. The back window was cracked open, but just not enough for little Kara to slip her arm through and unlock the door. We made our call to AAA (and many years we pay for that membership by using the locksmith service), and Miss AAA estimated the locksmith would be there in one hour. One hour.
We sat in despair under a convenient shade tree. Kara dried her tears. I did some deep breathing. Ally's brain was churning. After a while she says, "I think if we had a back scratcher I could open the door." And so we wandered back in Target, looking for some thing like a back scratcher. We came out with a pasta spoon. Ally, the queen of patience, endurance and fortitude, unlocked the door and saved the day.
That's the Drotar girls for you, we make a mean spaghetti sauce and use a pasta spoon to open locked car doors. We are nothing if not resourceful.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, which you would recognize as our third of an acre in town, Bryan had a fun adventure of his own. Weeks ago he had asked me to watch for a good deal on diapers we could buy and donate to the Crisis Pregnancy Center. I dutifully cut my coupons and watched the sale ads and one night I stood in Walgreens wondering what size diapers to buy. I concluded that it really didn't matter and grabbed size 2.
Three bags of size 2 diapers sat in our house for a couple weeks. Until today when Bryan carried the diapers into the Crisis Pregnancy Center. As he walked through the door the volunteer said, "Oh, size 2. We were wondering what we were going to do. We were all out, we had newborn and size 1, but not size 2. And we had been praying." Doesn't it just make you smile, to know what God was going to do?
Bryan and I were not the righteous ones, with prayers that availed much. We were going about our days, making plans and believing we chose those Huggies at random off the shelf and size didn't matter. Wednesday was a day that suited us to drive over to the CPC and deliver them. God's not random and Wednesday suited Him even more than it did us. We were, as Bryan said, the unwitting doof, or to put it more kindly, a tool in the Master's hand. Only a tool. And the Master always knows what He is going to do.