One day after our daily morning devotional time, Sandy and I planned our day.
Looming tax issues, legalities in music copyrighting, a writing assignment that
would have to wait until tomorrow emptied its plate from today… then suddenly
…the internet decides to call in sick. Great.
Okay then – Lord – how would you have me use this day? I sensed He wanted me
to exercise – my brisk two-mile walk, some crunches and light upper body weights.
I heard, “I need you to be physically strong.” Relatively speaking anyway.
So while Sandy, our techie, began coaxing the world wide web back to our personal
little strand – I worked up a reasonable sweat.
I set the timer (an incentive to keep my pace quickened) and “sprinted” down the
breezeway to the parking lot. “Blazing” past my neighbor’s SUV, I spied something
shiny – as my A.D.D. kicked in. ‘Twas a new penny, glittering up at me from the
asphalt – begging for a warm pocket to share with others of his sort.
But NO! I had a pace to keep – who has time to stoop down (why, risking back
injury at my age!) for a coin that won’t even pay for the wrapper on a stick of gum.
So onward I “sped” – for I needed to talk with my Maker about what He wanted
from this day.
As I confessed my various “me of little faith” issues and asked forgiveness, I heard
in my spirit, “Be faithful in the small things.”
Since losing my day job a couple years ago, I’d become rather used to small things.
Income had been sporadic, and – too often – “freelancing” seemed to put the
emphasis on “free.”
But as the words, “Be faithful in the small things” kept bouncing around my cranial
cavity… I kept harkening back to that shiny but lonesome penny, thinking, “Guess
I shoulda picked it up.”
Later, over half the 2 miles completed – I passed a barbeque joint – and there in
the driveway to my left… lay three pennies.
I immediately stooped to pick them up…then – for good measure – I did a lap
around the restaurant – hoping to find their friends, Mr. Quarter and Mr. Dime –
but no, just three pennies. So I then “blistered” forward another fifty yards to the
next business and there – in the drive… another penny – badly worn from being run
over… you know I picked it up.
Reaching the next driveway – wait – don’t get ahead of me… another badly worn
penny… you KNOW I picked it up.
That’s now five pennies – plus the one lonesome pence back at the parking lot, and
as I “race” for home, I’m nearly praying it’s still there so I can pick it up!
I smile to myself, “Six pence, none the richer…” And I realize I must share this. So
I pull out my ever-present digital recorder and begin to wheeze and pant the story
into the magical little plastic device. But …what’s this…?
…yet another penny crosses my path. Make that now, seven pennies. “Oh Lord,
please let that first penny still be there when I get back!” And it was.
“Be faithful in the small things.” So I put five of the pennies into the offering that
Sunday, with an anonymous note – so the finance people would know there’s
indeed, a ragamuffin in their midst. I asked God to multiply it as He sees fit.
Why only five? Because the other two are badly worn – beyond recognition. Yes
– to the world, they may have lost even their miniscule one-cent value. But to
me they are the most precious of all. For the only value they have –is to the one
who loved them enough to pick them up from the gutter. So I shall keep the two
ragamuffin coins. I think I’ll name them Denny and Sandy (‘cause one of them is