Looking

In some states here in the U.S. children are back in school before Labor day. I know, because in the state I grew up in, school bells rang before September. However the state I now live in Labor Day marks the last official weekend of summer. School usually begins a day or two after this holiday.

This past Labor Day, I found myself in a department store, frantically searching for a couple overlooked items on my son's list. {How is it that when I was young, we had no such things as back to school lists. The schools provided everything necessary. Remember those writing tablets? And if you wanted any special folders, it was optional not required. No, I'm not that old, but still young enough to have those memories LOL.}

Anyways, this Labor Day, my husband kept my son in the car, while I bravely fought the store traffic in the aisles to get the few things necessary for his return to school. It was a mistake. The aisles were crowded. The items, what were left of the supplies were few and far between. I soon found out that I would have to try at another store. Why didn't I check over this list, and discover the missing items last week?, I regretfully thought.

It was about that time, I heard something. Words. Not English, nor Spanish, which I'm getting used to hearing in stores. Another dialect. Another accent. Something familiar, yet strange. Then I saw one of the speakers. A young girl~ a very small girl. And a father. They were trying to decipher her back to school list. She was trying to translate the words out loud from English into their native tongue. They were trying to read in broken English, the labels on the shelves to see if they matched the list. They were having problems.

I stopped my mentally regretting of fighting the crowds. In fact in my mind the crowds disappeared. I noticed they weren't getting any help from anyone. I volunteered. I tried to in slow simple English to talk to the father. Often the girl standing looking up at me, had to translate. They showed me the list. Basic items. But in the midst of all the jostling, and rapidly dwindling supplies, it was turning out to be quite a challenge. Together the three of us worked at the list. Finally we had to give up on about two of the items. This store simply was out. He would have to look elsewhere.

In departing, I wanted to share with them something of my love for God, verbally. The language barrier was there. I could not effectively cross it. I ended up saying a few words, not wishing them luck{because I don't believe in luck} but God's blessings on the little girl's school year. The father warmly gave me his name, and his daughter's name and his hand in a firm handshake. I gladly took his hand and returned his handshake. They , I had learned during our hunt, had been living here in the nearby city for five years. Originally they were from a Eastern European country. As we departed, I prayed silently for them. Often throughout these weeks since Labor Day I think of them. I wonder how they are doing. I wonder if he is married and if he has other children. I also wonder if they know Jesus. Or are they looking for Him too? I pray that the whole family will find Him if they don't already know Him.

Are you looking for Jesus too? Are you lost in the crowd of choices and trying to decipher which one is right? Are you trying to follow a list that seems so hard to understand?

The Bible says:

"If you look for me in earnest, you will find me when you seek me."
Jer 29:13 (NLT)

God wants to talk to us, He speaks our language.

8 My heart has heard you say, "Come and talk with me." And my heart responds, "LORD, I am coming."
Psalms 27:8 (NLT)

Are you looking? God says, "COME".