Two nights ago my daughter and I went to a local consignment sale. We’d planned the evening out ahead of time and lined everything up just so, the way families do. My husband would get home about five. My daughter and I would leave about 5:15. We’d be at the sale for an hour and then I’d drop her off for youth group at 6:30. I needed to pick up a few things at the store on the way home, dinner being part of the list, and then I’d hurry back to eat a late supper with my husband and boys.

Everything went as planned. We shopped the sale, found a few things, and made the long walk through the crowded parking lot toward our van. We parked in a smaller, separate lot behind the main parking area. When we got there, we saw three or four women standing around looking agitated and anxious. Apparently we were all blocked in. Though we had parked our minivans and such in neat rows, the driver of a luxury SUV had seen fit to park in such a way that blocked in the entire lot.

Despite multiple announcements inside the rec center where the sale was held, the driver didn’t show. A local police officer came to assess the situation and mamas were getting more riled up by the second. As the minutes ticked by, my daughter realized we weren’t going to make it to youth group on time and that she might miss the dinner altogether. My sweet girl has many fine qualities but staying calm when things don’t go as planned is not one of them. Between her and the mom parked next to me who had a starving four-month-old at home waiting to nurse, things were getting tense.

At long last, the poor driver arrived, utterly shocked by all the commotion. She had no idea she had blocked in 20 cars. Women huffed and puffed, aghast that we had all been standing in a parking lot for 30-45 minutes, put out that we had all been so rudely inconvenienced.

A good friend of mine happened to be stranded in the lot with me. At one point she said, “Don’t you just wonder what God is doing in situations like this?” Honestly, I wasn’t thinking about that at all. I was well aware of my own lack of grace but I kept that to myself. I didn’t want to be part of any “scene” or have a hissy fit but I was more than irritated on the inside. I told myself that this was an opportunity to show grace, if only on the outside. Besides, public displays aren’t really my thing. I’m much more mature and prefer to write angry pretend letters I never send and make angry pretend speeches I never deliver.

As we finally made our way out of the lot, my teary-eyed daughter said “I hope that police officer gave her a ticket.” And I agreed. When we are grossly inconvenienced by others, we want them to pay. But the unsettling truth is, I’ve got an absent-minded streak a mile long and it’s not that far fetched that I could block off a parking lot. I’d like to think I’m more mindful than that, but sometimes I’m not. I’ve had my fair share of embarrassing mistakes. I’ve inconvenienced others and I’m sure I’ll do it again.

I spent the next five minutes trying to calm down my child. I gave the predictable speech about not freaking out when we encounter inconveniences that are beyond our control, about being flexible, about taking deep breaths. I dropped her off at youth group, both of us frustrated and frazzled. The evening had not gone as planned. My family was going to eat dinner way too late. I was tired and hungry and a tad stressed.

Laser-focused, I hurried into Walmart to grab the five items on my list. For Walmart, it was surprisingly vacant. I walked through the self-checkout and bagged my groceries. As I left the area, I heard a terrible sound behind me. I turned around to see a woman on the floor, convulsing. She had been checking out right across from me. One second she was fine and the next moment she was having a violent seizure. She and her sister had been shopping together. Kneeling beside her on the floor, crying and in shock, the sister called 911 and we waited for the ambulance to arrive. You could tell by the sister’s reaction that this had never happened before. It was terrifying for all of us.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t just leave but I didn’t want to stare and gawk. Another shopper in the checkout area had rushed to the other side of the woman and was holding her hand. It had all happened so quickly and I was just standing around stunned, confirming with the sister and a store clerk that an ambulance was in fact on its way.

And that’s when I saw her, a small girl with long blonde curls and light-up glitter shoes, looking down with wide eyes at the unconscious woman. Mommy? Mommy?

Immediately I went to the girl and got down on my knees. I can’t remember all that I said, but I know I told her not to be afraid, that some helpers were on their way to take care of her mommy. She told me her name was Arianna and I led her away from the scene to the checkout aisle treats. Within 30 seconds she was distracted by a box of multi-colored goldfish crackers and jumping up and down as she put the one dollar bill into the machine. We sat on the floor, “criss-cross applesauce,” and chatted it up about everything from Hello Kitty accessories to Dora. She turns four this month and I was reminded of why I love that age so much; she had more personality than my heart could hold. “You are absolutely going to love being four,” I told her.

I don’t know how long we sat there. Twenty minutes? Thirty? The EMTs came and attended Arianna’s mother. She was conscious by the time they got there. I think she’s going to be okay. I hope and pray that she will. For a few moments I feared I might see someone die right in front of me. I think the sister did too. It was that scary and intense. We all waited in uncertainty for what seemed like forever until she came to. I’m no medical professional so I couldn’t do much of anything. But I did know that a little girl shouldn’t see all of this and I just happened to be the one available to feed her goldfish and talk about Hello Kitty.

A family member came to take Arianna home. We said our goodbyes and she was sad that I couldn’t go out to the parking lot with her. I was sad too. But I promised to look for her in Walmart every time I’m there and she promised to look for me too.

Before I go any further, please know that this post is not about Marian the Good Samaritan. Not at all. Remember, this is the same mom who, an hour earlier was silently fuming and graceless in a parking lot. Any of you reading this would have done the same thing if you’d been in Walmart. We see it on the news all the time. The people who are there when a crisis hits are the ones who swoop in. They’re not super heroes. They’re simply present, at the scene. There. All they do is show up.

And that’s the thing. I was there. But I wasn’t supposed to be. According to my plans, I should’ve been at home eating pizza with my husband and boys. Instead I was sitting on the cold tiles of the local Walmart, distracting a child I’d never met.

All because a woman blocked my minivan in a parking lot.

As I walked through the automatic doors to leave, the gravity of the situation descended on me. You know what I’m talking about, being “grace under pressure” when an emergency hits and then a crumpled emotional mess once it’s passed. I started to shake a little bit and felt the tears well up. And that’s when it hit me. I was there because of the “inconvenience” at the parking lot. If I hadn’t been held up for those 40 minutes, what would have happened to Arianna?

I went through the motions of dinner and clean-up and packing lunches, dazed and emotionally drained. Sometimes I need days to process and sometimes it comes tumbling out in the immediate aftermath and I just have to write it down. This was one of those times.

Why am I telling you this? Why did I tell my daughter this story when she came in from youth group?

Because we never know. We don’t. I’m reminded of Proverbs 16:9.

In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps.

We make our plans and our lists. We watch the clock. We hold things so very tightly and when it all goes awry, we find that we’re the ones wound so tight, undone by the little things that get in the way of our goals or even our dinner. The reality is this: God is working all the time in ways we can’t even imagine and in ways we rarely even know. We go about our business and He is using us, working in us and through us whether we know it or not.

But sometimes he lifts us up and lets us peek through the window. He allows us to see. This was one of those times for me.

It’s probably no coincidence that one of my recurrent prayers lately is that I would simply be available for whatever He has, that I would notice and be mindful and not begrudge the ordinary. I’ve been studying some difficult passages in Matthew 25, sobered by how I often resent the acts of love and service that are actually unto Christ himself:

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ {Matthew 25:35-40}

But I was also struck by the ordinariness of this service: food, clothing, water, hospitality. We offer these every day, unaware of how the mundane is actually bursting with sacredness. We are simply showing up. And He is kind enough to notice that which often goes unnoticed. I’ve wanted to notice these things more too, not so I could feel proud and worthwhile but so that I might be more mindful of the beauty and opportunity found in the everyday, more willing to give what I have.

I’ve never seen inconveniences in any sort of glorious light even though I’ve paid lip service to God’s sovereignty even in the little things. I’ve certainly never seen them as sacred. Until two nights ago at Walmart.

What if inconveniences usher us into the very presence of Christ himself?

We can say yes to these “interruptions” and derailments every single day. We can see them as divine invitations. Stopping to get my thirsty child some bottled water at the store even though it will make me late. Cooking dinner again even though I just did it last night and the night before that and the night before that. Taking time for someone even though I don’t really have the time. Putting away the laundry so that I can clothe the ones in my care. Giving away clothes so that I can clothe ones in others’ care.

These are not small things. They are not things to disdain or ignore. They are everyday invitations to simply show up with what we have and pour out our meager offerings. Our water. Our words. Our money. Our multi-colored goldfish.

Will inconveniences still be bothersome? Of course. Will I still react less than graciously in the future? Probably. Will I ever see inconveniences the same way? I hope not.

I pray that I can trust, that what may seem like the worst timing may actually be a most divine appointment.

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