Coats

"Just take these," she said as she hoisted four men's coats into my hands. She had turned her head, seeming both to not want to watch as she let go of the garments and not wanting me to notice the puffiness of her eyes that were holding back the remaining tears.

I knew the coats had come at a great cost. I had seen them before. They were hanging in her house right where her husband had left them. In the years since his passing they had been reminders of his presence, reminders of the blessing she'd lost.

But cold came early that fall. And when she saw the cardboard sign being held by the shivering hands of a homeless man she knew was my friend she had to do something.

The moment when grief for what was lost is overtaken by grief for those who never had something to begin with puts us in a position of challenge. And when we boldly, painfully choose to respond by taking the blessings from our past and using them to heal the present the Spirit can't seem to help but move.

I took those coats to four very different men: tall, short, stout, lean. I said to each, "I don't know if this will fit; it might be a too _____________ (short, long, small, bulky) but try it on and we'll see."

And though these men would need to shop in different sections of stores to find well-fitting clothing, each coat appeared as if custom tailored for that individual. Warm memories of blessings past, baptized by tears, transformed into blessings of warmth against today's cold winds.

Lord, help me know Your presence in all attempts to serve You.