"What about Mary?"
An old family friend with an angel's voice, and a best friend of our grieving sister, Mary was attending the service. With only a few minutes to spare, Mary tested the harmony and very kindly agreed to help.
"May I sit here?" she asked, pointing to my designated folding chair.
"Of course," I agreed and strode quickly back out to the church hall to rustle up another chair. Seeing none, I pulled one of the funeral directors aside and asked hurriedly, "can you get a chair for me in the back of the church?" She was busy too, but its part of the director's job and she didn't hesitate, saying it would be done. I left her and went to wash the equipment dust from my hands.
Emerging from the rest room I bumped into a young high schooler carrying a chair.
"Is that my chair?" I blurted out. He looked confused.
"The chair for the back of the church--did the funeral director ask you to get that?"
I was speaking fast and must have looked as anxious as I felt, so he wordlessly, reluctantly handed me the chair. I raced to the back of the church where Mary was already seated. To my surprise, another chair was already in place, obviously placed there by the director. I just kept walking and placed the extra one next to it, wondering now why that young man had gotten a chair for me.
Almost immediately the congregation was instructed to stand for the opening hymm and I glanced over to my left. There he was, my young friend, wrestling another, bigger chair into place at the end of a back pew. It was for him, and he was seated beside an overflowing pew full of our nephew's friends.
I felt bad for the mix up, realizing I had caused extra grief and stress for the young visitor. But only a few minutes into the service I heard the side door to the church scrape open and bright light poured in from the alley. An embarrassed gentleman stepped into the church. He was obviously late, and he hurriedly scraped the door shut again.
There was nothing he could do. He was committed now and with the layout of the church--two opposing halves of the church face each other across the altar in the middle--half the people there were aware of his predicament. Not a space to be found, except...
"Would you like to sit down?" I walked over and whispered, gesturing to our vacant chair.
He nodded gratefully and settled in beside Mary and me for the remainder of the service.
Afterwards, I tracked down the young man with whose chair I'd absconded.
He looked a little apprehensive, perhaps wondering if I had another reason for him to chase the wild goose. But I quickly recounted the story and as soon as I got to the part about the man stepping into the church without a seat, his face lit up.
"The chair!" he exclaimed. Yes, the chair. And despite the sad occassion, we enjoyed a shared moment, realizing that even the littlest things we fret over are often used by God to accomplish his own way.
"In all things God works for the good of those who love him, those who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28
What do you believe?
