The Woman at the Post Office

On May 11th, a friend sent me a Facebook message detailing a promotion by Scandinavian airlines where up to eight children could fly free with each adult ticket purchased.  I looked at it, chuckled to myself, and closed it.  The promotion expired on May 13th, and in those 2 days we had soccer games, a birthday party to host, Sarah's actual birthday, and Mother's Day, not that I was even considering it.  While my adventurous husband does like to plan wild and crazy "field trips" for our herd, this seemed like too much.  Even for him.  Through the events of the weekend, I didn't give it another thought.

Then, as we settled in for our Sunday afternoon rest time, he casually mentioned, "I think we should book the tickets."  After I picked my jaw up off the floor, we weighed the pros and cons.  Long story short, we booked the tickets for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 

That's the beginning of the story that will end up being our European Adventure of 2018.  

With a momentous decision like "taking a family of nine to a different continent" comes a lot of planning, not the least of which includes upgrading the family passport cards for land and sea travel to passport books for air travel.  It took a few days to fill out the forms, take the photos, and get to the post office, but we got it all accomplished in about a week.  Yesterday, we took the entire family for our appointment to prove we are who we say we are live and in person.  We got situated in the "waiting area" in the center of the post office replete with two whole chairs, the entire family on display for the world to see.  I was sweating (because that's what my body does when I'm stressed out at all times).  It was already going better than the last time we went for passport cards and Noah peed in the middle of the floor.  The kids were mostly sitting still, mostly being quiet, and Ben had the foresight to bring the Switch for the kids to play a game of Mario Kart while they waited.  One of the postal workers looked at me and said, "Those all your babies?"  I confirmed the fact, and she replied, "That's great.  Large families are great."  Phew.  

We awaited our turn to go into the separate [less conspicuous] passport room for several minutes beyond our allotted time, when a customer approached us.  She commented on the kids, that we were a beautiful family.  (PSA - "You have a beautiful family" is *always* an okay statement to make.  To any family.  You should say this to everyone you see.  It's the nicest possible compliment.)  She told us she has worked with children for decades.  She didn't say exactly in what capacity, but mentioned books and reading to them.  She told us that she got to enjoy many firsts with kids and wished their own parents would have relished in those times as much as she did.  Her whole body and all of her language exuded joy in her work.  It was precious.  She told us she never had kids of her own, to which Sam replied, "Sure you did!  A whole bunch of them."  She loved it and replied, "Yeah, I guess about 1500 of them."  As she looked over our family she told us that she reminded the parents often that the kids did not really belong to them, they were God's children in their care.  What a mighty calling and blessing to be responsible for souls.  We nodded in wholehearted agreement.  At this, she paused and asked if we were there for passports (a logical conclusion, I suppose, since most people probably don't bring their kids to the middle of the post office and hang out for fun).  We said yes.  She inquired where we were traveling, and Sam answered, "Europe."  Upon hearing this, she looked us straight in the eye and said, "Y'all are believers?  Can I pray for you?"  

And right there in the middle of the Russell Parkway Post Office, this woman prayed blessings over our family and our upcoming travels.  She prayed for our safety.  She prayed that people would notice us and that we would be an encouragement to them.  She prayed that we would find a way to share Jesus with those we encountered.  

That's how it came to pass that I shed tears (not surprising) and hugged a stranger (totally shocking) in the passport line.

Seconds after her "Amen" our name was called, and I thank the Lord the postal worker was running a few minutes late or we would have missed meeting this beautiful soul.  With a "Bless you, sister" she carried on her own post office business at the counter, and it hit me so hard.  

She is my sister.  And this is how we should love each other.  

She might never know how much that meant to me.  God is already relieving me of my fears surrounding the trip.  Prayer is powerful.  And I pray the same things she did.  Mostly, even before we leave, that our lives, in word and deed, will be an encouragement and witness to those we encounter.

I also pray that when the Spirit moves me, I will capitalize on the opportunities to encourage and pray for the people around me.  Even the strangers.  Despite my introversion.  Because you know, I may not be the most gregarious person on the planet, but God can use anyone.  

And because I can't even stand how cute this is, here's one of Zachary's rejected passport photos.  He was having way too good of a time.  It doesn't quite meet the criterion for "neutral facial expression."