Yet there he was, standing on the street corner, holding his cardboard sign.
"Alright LORD," I muttered under my breath. "If you really want me to do this, I will." One more quick glance at the light showed me it wasn't going to change, no matter how much I willed it to.
Slowly, I put down my window. "Excuse me?" I called. "Would you like to share some lunch?" He quickly came over to the car window, and I handed over my offering--the ziploc bag, filled with bottled water, a granola bar, and ready to mix chicken salad and crackers. "Thank you ma'am" he said quietly, and turned and walked away. "God Bless you," I called feebly after him as the light changed and we went on our way.
"Mama, why did we give that man food?" piped a small voice from the back seat as we continued on towards our destination.
"My son, God has given us everything we need. Everything we have is from Him, and because we love Him, we share what we have been given with others. That man had no lunch, and we did, so we shared a lunch with him".
My eyes filled with tears as I reflected on the opportunity I had almost missed, at the attitude I had at serving my King. It was "just" lunch, but it allowed not only me, but my family to share with the "least of these" in the hopes that in some small way, I was serving the King. And the double blessing was that in sharing "just" lunch, I was able to share the upside down values of the Kingdom of God with my son; demonstrating God's love and justice, and His desire for us as His followers.
We made it to the store, completed the craft, and even got home before naptime was over. But all that faded into the background as I realized that I am called not only to be available to my children, but to always be available to my Lord. The time is His, not mine.