A funny thing happened on the way home from the festival.
Several week ago, John and I spent the day in Mineral, Va. at the Louisa Labor Festival. We sold books, crocheted ducks, and collage artwork. Perhaps more importantly, we made three great contacts. Two teachers invited me to their elementary schools to read to the children, and one scout leader asked me to come work with her troop on a collage art project. It was a good day. Long—but good.
Tired and hungry—we head for Richmond. Neither of us wants to cook supper at this late hour. John (wisely) pulls into the parking lot of a Chick-fil-A. Our desire is for sustenance—and some much-needed peace and quiet. That’s the plan.
Peace and quiet. Hahaha.
Let the non-quiet meal begin.
Chance Encounter #1
As we walk toward the restaurant, a middle-aged man juggling an armload of Chick-fil-A bags looks at John and me, smiles, and shouts, “Hey, there. Are y’all twins?”
We laugh at his joke, and I reply, “Ha, ha, ha! That’s a good one. Never been asked that before.”
Inside the restaurant, we order our food, take a seat, and wait.
Chance Encounter #2
After what we determine to be a substantial wait time (remember that we’re hungry), Owen arrives with our food. We thank him. He replies, “My pleasure.” (I never tire of that reply.)
We expect Owen to leave our table. He doesn’t. Instead, he lingers and asks, “What’s up with the matching shirts?”
I give him the Reader’s Digest version of being the author/illustrator of a children’s book titled Huck, Chuck, & Bruce: At the Shore. Then, I share that we wear these “Huck, the Duck” shirts at book events. (I purposefully keep it pithy because our food is getting cold.)
Again, we expect Owen to leave our table. He doesn’t. He announces that he wants to buy a book for his neighbors who have three small children. John—my considerate, hungry hubby—goes out to our vehicle and retrieves both a hardback copy and a paperback copy. Owen chooses the hardback. I sign the book, personalizing it with the names of the three children.
Owen leaves our table. We eat our lukewarm chicken.
Chance Encounter #3
Halfway through our meal, I notice the presence of a young lad close by. John and I are seated indoors next to a window. The pre-teen and his family are seated outdoors. In our peripheral vision, we notice that the boy is looking our way and making some type of motion with his hands. Of course, John and I look to see what’s going on.
Smiling, he gives us two thumbs up and then, points to our shirts.
In return, we wave to him. Through the window, we carry on a most pleasant conversation. I hold up the paperback copy of my book and point to Huck and my name on the cover. He understands. The entire family smiles and claps. I take a tiny bow and resume eating my cold chicken.
After supper, John and I go out and briefly chat with the family. What a lovely group of people. They share a bit about their lives and their faith, and we do likewise. We leave their table hoping that—God willing—our paths with this sweet family will cross again one day.
My take-away from these so-called chance encounters is that …
We make our plans, and God laughs.
After giving some thought to the happenings at this delightfully, non-quiet evening meal, John and I decide that these were not chance encounters with strangers. God, who is omniscient, knew that we would meet all of these fine folks on this day—at this exact time—in this Chick-fil-A. These meetings were not accidents. No, no, no! They were planned get-togethers—ordained by our Father.
Praise be to God for directing our path every single minute of every single day.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11