I once took my son to a nursing home just to walk around and visit. It was remarkable to see the way the residents brightened up when they saw a toddling one year old walk past them. Smiles crossed over confused and frustrated faces. It was as if upon seeing a child these people who spend their days confined, waiting, and wandering, were for a moment healed by the joy a baby brings.
One woman even claimed my son was her grandson and took us through the halls introducing us to her friends as her own relatives. She beamed with pride that her “family” had come to visit.
That morning I had prayed for God to use us, lead us, show us someone in need.
About an hour after I prayed, this “home” popped into my mind. Quite honestly, it was the last place I wanted to go. I thought it would be awkward. But I had a feeling the Lord knew better, so we went. And how thankful I am that I trusted. (Unfortunately, there have been many more times I have not followed those promptings.) I left that place overflowing.
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