The Angel in the Orange T-shirt

I call him the angel in the orange t-shirt, but I don't really know if he was a bonafide angel, or just a nice guy who did a really great thing. All I know is, he was in the right place at the right time, and I'll never forget what he did for me.

It was less than 48 hours before my children and I would leave on our first ever family vacation. We'd been planning this road trip for months. What started out as a "Hey, wouldn't it be great if..." idea back in June was about to become reality in mid-October. I'd scrimped and saved but had nowhere near enough money to make it happen; at least, not the way a vacation should happen. My daughter donated part of her lemonade stand earnings, and my son pitched in from his restaurant job, but we still fell far short of our goal, and were set to leave Wednesday morning.

It was Monday, and I was standing in a used record store with my list of LPs from the 60's, 70's and 80's, and some very high hopes. I'd done some research and had an idea of what I'd like to be offered for my collection. I compiled a list of all 55 albums, categorized by genre of music and detailed with as much information as I could gather about each one, in the hopes that among my collection would be treasures unknown. I prayed that the shop owner knew his stuff, and asked God on the drive over to let me know if the offer I received for my merchandise was fair.

When I entered the small shop there was one customer ahead of me, a man in a faded orange t-shirt and nondescript shorts, sporting a day or two of stubble on his middle-aged face. The proprietor glanced at my list, saying he would mark whatever was of interest to him. I chatted with the man in the orange t-shirt as the owner puttered behind the counter, stacked high with musical minutiae, and learned he was there to ascertain the value of a collection of 52 Elvis albums he'd received from his daughter, who was gifted with them during her stint as an EMT in New Orleans, where she'd gone to help after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina.

The stranger was pleasant, and I shared with him the purpose of my visit. "I'm taking my kids on their first ever family vacation. We're going to Colorado day after tomorrow, and whatever I get for my album collection will be our 'fun money' to spend. I only have gas money so far, but I know ...” I started to say “I know God doesn't want us to go all that way and not have any fun money”...but I simply said "Whatever I get from these albums will be what we have to play with." Why didn't I mention God? I'm not sure, but for some reason I hesitated. Perhaps I didn't want to sound "religious" or "preachy". Whatever the reason, I stopped short.

When he learned where we were headed, he told me that he had lived in Colorado years before, in the very area we planned to visit. I asked for his recommendation on sight-seeing locations and possible activities the children would enjoy. "You have to visit the Flying W Ranch," he insisted, and went on to describe a tasty dinner and "western show", stating it was one of his favorite memories of Colorado. I wrote the information on the back of a business card I gleaned from the crowded counter top, and dropped it in my pocket.

The shop owner eventually poked his head out and said he was ready to give the gentleman a value on his Elvis collection and they both disappeared around the end of the counter. Once their business was concluded, the man in the orange t-shirt left the shop after we both agreed "It was nice meeting you"...although I realized we never actually exchanged names.

The next few minutes did not go as I'd envisioned. The shop owner looked at my list and said there was really only one album he was even remotely interested in seeing. Wow, only one? Out of all my treasures??? I left the shop to retrieve the album from the back seat of my car, where my tub full of would-be treasures waited. Maybe this one LP would be my golden ticket... As it turned out, he didn't even want that one. I tried to convince him otherwise but he graciously informed me that he simply wasn't interested in what I had. "I'm sorry," he said. Well, so was I, because the bottom line was that I walked out of the shop with my collection intact, and not a penny richer than when I walked in. As I left I thanked him for his time, said I hoped his shop prospered and left, saying "God bless you."

Once outside I wondered what I was going to do. That album collection was the last thing I had to leverage to raise cash for our trip. Should I cancel our vacation? I couldn't do that to my children, not after talking about it, praying about it and saving for it for 3 and a half months. I'd received some money in the mail that morning, but it was only a fraction of what I'd originally planned to have on hand for our trip. I didn't know what would happen next, but I didn't feel that I should give up.

I walked to my car, shaking my head in disbelief and muttering "I can't believe he didn't want any of my stuff! Well, God, I guess you'll just have to get me the money I need some other way." As I closed the back door of my car after replacing the lone album, I looked up to see the man in the orange t-shirt approaching. I thought it odd, since he'd left several minutes before and should have been long gone by now. What was he doing still here, I wondered. I didn't have to wonder long.

"You know, sometimes God has us in the right place at the right time for the right reason" he said as he walked up, his hand extended. I looked down and saw he held a $20 bill. "Take this and have a good time with your kids". I started to reach out, then hesitated. I remembered how I stopped short of saying I knew God didn't want us to go to Colorado without any “fun money”. I felt confused, unsure how to respond, and said the first thing that popped into my head. "He didn't want a single one of my albums!" He chuckled at the disbelief in my voice, saying "I know, he didn't want any of mine, either! But here, I want you to take this and have fun on your vacation anyway."

He still held the money in his outstretched hand, and didn't look as though he had any intention of changing his mind. I accepted his offering, reached up and gave him a hug saying, "Thank you for this. You're going to make me cry." He started back toward his car, which I noticed was quite a nice, expensive looking car...not at all what you'd expect someone who looked like him to be driving. "It's okay" he assured me. "Just take it and have a good time". I managed another befuddled "Thank you" before he disappeared.

I got behind the wheel of my own car, shut the door and looked down at the bill he'd pressed into my palm. It was then I realized that it wasn't a $20, it was FIVE $20 bills! This total stranger, whose name I did not know and with with whom I'd only shared a few brief minutes in a crowded used record store, talking about Elvis and Colorado, had given me $100. I did cry at that point, realizing that until that moment I wasn't 100% convinced I was doing the right thing by pressing forward. I recalled how on the drive to the record shop I'd asked God for a "billboard" to let me know if He wanted us to make this trip. You see, a “billboard” is something I've asked God for in the past when I've been unsure about important decisions, figuring I might not hear a "still, small voice", but a billboard would be hard to miss. "I guess I just got my billboard, didn't I?" I said aloud, laughing through my tears.

The next day we were blessed with $200 more, exceeding our original goal by $20, and went on our family trip as planned. We visited friends, toured a college, did some sightseeing and enjoyed the western show at the Flying W Ranch. As it turned out, that particular event was the highlight of the trip. Like I said, I don't know if he was a bonafide spirit being or just a nice guy in a faded orange t-shirt, but the stranger with the Elvis album collection was definitely in the right place at the right time for the right reason, and to me, he'll always be an angel.

An oldie but a goodie

I have a confession to make. I am not the perfect mother. But I like to think that I am not alone. Perhaps there’s another mother out there who, when faced with a grinning 2 year old covered from tippy-toe to ankle in mommy’s favorite purple metallic nail polish, silently ask themselves "What made me think having a child was a good idea?" Yet when that self-same aspiring makeup artist, confident of your approval, smiles winningly up at you and says ever so sweetly "I make me pretty, Mommy, just like you!" you are lost. Helpless in the face of her unconditional adoration, your heart melts.

Parenting is an awesome responsibility, not to be taken lightly. It can also be an endless source of joy, learning, and love reciprocated. It is, like anything in life, what you make it. It can be a burden or what keeps you going on those days when you feel as if all the world is out to get you. When the alarm doesn’t go off, traffic backs up, the copier breaks down, and your leftovers explode in the lunchroom microwave, a chubby pair of loving arms wrapped tightly around your neck at the end of a ruthless day can make it all disappear.

Parenthood is full of eye-opening moments. It’s the sight of your little one passed out cold after playing so hard she fell asleep with her shoes on that reminds you of the importance of taking time to play. It's the teenager who says "Thanks, Mom" instead of rolling his eyes and stomping off who makes you realize you really are having an impact on at least one member of the next generation of leaders.

With every great privilege comes great responsibility. Let’s remember what a privilege it is to shape the next generation, our future leaders, and let’s not take that responsibility lightly. Remember to tell your children you love them, and enjoy the precious moments along the way. Take time out to stop and inhale the sweet fragrance of a downy-soft baby’s head, take a moment to watch your child at play, or peacefully sleeping, or laughing with friends, and thank God for the awesome privilege and responsibility of being a parent.

'I can't take your money!'

I tried everything I could think of, but the woman on the other end of the phone would not take my money. I was trying very hard to give her $1,400 but she simply would not take it. Let me back up a bit and explain. A few years ago I was trying to get out of debt, and there was one big bill I needed to handle. At $1,400 it was, in fact, the single largest outstanding debt, representing the balance owed on an orthodontic bill. For various reasons, payments on this bill had lapsed. Although it was close to two years past due and I hadn't received any statements in quite some time, I knew I still owed the orthodontist and I was bound and determined to clear this debt. Hence, on the day in question, the phone call to the polite but somewhat uncooperative billing department manager.

I suppose it's actually unfair to label her "uncooperative", but the fact was she was not willing to take my money. I had an old statement in my hand as I explained that the purpose of my call was to take care of the outstanding balance on my bill; I simply needed to verify the amount and my check would be on it's way to their office. The woman in charge of billing put me on hold as she pulled up my account. Or should I say, as she attempted to pull up my account in her computer system. After several minutes she informed me that she had no record of an outstanding bill with my name on it. I gave her the account name and number from the statement once more, along with the amount due. I also explained that I was in the process of paying off all my bills in order to become debt free, and how important this was to me to accomplish my goal.

"I understand what you're trying to do, and I appreciate your honesty, but...I can't take your money" she informed me. "I don't understand", I replied. "I know I owe you this money. I have the statement in my hand and I want to pay what I owe the doctor. He provided services for which he has not been paid, and that's not right. I want to take care of this properly." I was becoming frustrated by this woman who refused to acknowledge my debt and allow me to clear it.

"Ma'am, I would love to take your money, but I wouldn't have anywhere to put it" she stated. "We have a new computer system since you last visited our office, and there simply is no record of an outstanding balance with your name on it." I asked her to please check her paper files, and even pressed her about old records stored off site. She chuckled at one point, amused by how hard I was trying to give her money. She expressed the uniqueness of someone arguing with her about their bill in this particular manner. I don't think she'd ever had anyone insist that they DID owe money.

After several minutes and a lot of dialogue back and forth I finally had to give up. That's not something I do easily, especially when I know I'm right, but there was no way this woman was going to take my money. She insisted I did not owe a bill that I insisted I did! Something had to give. It was a situation I'd never faced before. She finally convinced me that despite my good intentions, if I did indeed mail her a check~whether for $4 or $1,400~she'd just have to mail it back to me, so I might as well save us both the trouble.

I thanked the billing manager for her patience and multiple attempts to locate my bill, although I still wasn't convinced it didn't exist somewhere, stuffed in the back of a file drawer. I felt odd not paying my debt, but it was abundantly clear that my debt no longer existed as far as the other party was concerned. As the billing manager so patiently explained, there simply was no record of it anywhere. It was an experience I'll never forget.

I can't help but think of how God works. When it comes to our debt, there's nothing left to pay. God's only begotten son, Jesus Christ, made complete and total payment for our sins; past, present and future. I think about the way my orthodontia debt disappeared, and how no matter what tactic I used to pay my nonexistent bill I was told "You don't owe us anything". God is like the billing department manager, in a way. He keeps no record of our sins. He casts them as far as the east is from the west and remembers them no more. When we try to remind Him of them by asking for forgiveness over and over again, He says "What sin? I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about. I have no record of any debt with your name on it."

So why keep trying to pay a bill that doesn't exist? If this sounds like you, stop! Don't expend any more effort trying to pay a debt you no longer owe. It's counter-productive. Don't write that check...God has nowhere to put it. As a child of God, you are spiritually debt free. Enjoy it, and perhaps take a moment to send your Heavenly Father a mental thank you note today.

God bless you.