A need is a seed.

I went to physio today. I had my appointment. My rear end hurts to prove it. (Sorry, but it is true.) I wanted to stay and read for a bit, while waiting for my husband to pick me up. I have been immersed in a good read by Francine Rivers. However, I saw my van waiting across the street. It ended up being someone else's van, as blue van's are in excess, so I ducked into the Salvation Army Thrift Store. A friend and I used to go there with her mother when we were in highschool. We would find cool old men's cords to buy, cute college shirts, and woolly sweaters. I remember a brown collared t-shirt that I had bought with the name Rudy embroidered on it. Those were some good memories. I didn't see anything interesting today.
As I walked out, I saw the poor lady from last week. I chatted with her a bit and found out her full name. She was digging in the free bin. I went back into the store with her to look for some running shoes. She told me that she was bipolar and on medication. I told her that I understood that and it was hard. She agreed. She told me that her arches were fallen and she needed ankle support in her shoes. We found her some hiking boots, some new shoelaces, and she threw in some gloves. They told me she wasn't allowed in the store. She put down a rolled up cigarette on the counter. They thought it was drugs. I don't know why she was banned but I can imagine. Stealing.... throwing a fit.... who would care if you had nothing to lose.
We went outside and she smoked the cigarette as I said goodbye. I wonder if I will see Theresa again. I have a physio appointment in a few weeks. I would not be surprised if she just happened to show up along the road....
I thought more about her as I had lunch with my hubby and kids. As I rubbed Gemma's back I sent out a prayer that is common from my mouth, "God, let my children always know you." It made me sad to think that Theresa is someone's lost daughter. The workers didn't want to touch her, they said they wouldn't help her find shoes, they backed away when she tried to show them that her cigarette was just that, they wanted her out, and this was at a place meant to help people like her. I just wanted to hug her goodbye. We are all someone's lost daughter. And I am no Mother Theresa but for some reason, this lady keeps showing up in my path. I don't believe in coincidence. I wonder if there is a lesson to be learned or if this is just practical Christianity- see a need, fill a need.
I have been thinking about a sort-of mission statement for this year:  Am I planting a seed or growing a weed? I want God to grow my faith this year. I don't want to let my tongue loose and grow anger or bitterness. I don't want to make a person look bad in someone else's eyes. I want to cherish my children, encourage my friends. I don't want to give up on hope for things that seem dreary in my life, and they do at least once a week. At least. I want to learn to count my blessings instead of adding up my pain (and this does not mean not mourning over things that are sad and should be mourned, or pretending everything is rosy). I want to share in firstfruits and wisdom. I don't want to glean off the floor. I want to glean from the hand of God and then share it. I want truth to be filling my days, more than unedifying sources. I am on a tangent but back to the basic story that is; I want to be ready to fill a need. Poor in spirit, poor in body. Filling a need is planting a seed. They will know you are His by your love. The end.