One day, I was standing in the checkout lane at the local Piggly Wiggly grocery store. (Yes. The Piggly Wiggly is not just a grocery store featured in movies about the South. That’s the name of a real chain of grocery stores. We have a Piggly Wiggly in the small Georgia farm community where we live.) I was waiting my turn to pay for my groceries when a familiar song on the store’s sound system caught my ear. Not one to miss an opportunity to encourage myself, I softly hummed along. I was careful not to intrude on the space of the gentleman ahead of me who was already being waited on by the clerk. But he must have overheard me anyway.
He turned to me and said politely, “Hey! That sounds pretty good. You should sing for a living!”
I chuckled softly and responded, “Well, I do sing for a living!”
“Well, sing something for me right now!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I eased my shopping cart forward a little and sang at a volume I thought he could appreciate. I was careful not to distract others around me. I started in on the familiar hymn. “Amazing grace! How sweet the sound …”
All of a sudden, the volume of the store’s sound system went mute, and a young man I assumed was the manager came out of his office cubbyhole at the front of the store. He stood at the foot of the checkout, lifted his hands toward the heavens, closed his eyes, and worshipped. In seconds, a small crowd of onlookers gathered with him around the checkout lane.
When I saw I had an audience, I turned up the volume and sang with more intention. Actually, I added a few nuances, the way I would sing the song if I had been back home at my father’s Black Baptist church. I continued, “That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see.”
More people stopped to listen, so I continued to sing. “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we’d first begun.” After I finished singing the hymn, the gentleman ahead of me smiled with delight as he joined in applauding with the crowd. The store manager said a hearty “Amen” before he went back to work, and a few folks joined him as they left the store or went back to their shopping. The gentleman smiled and thanked me for the song as he grabbed his grocery bags and headed toward the exit. I pushed my cart up and put my items on the conveyor belt.
The clerk appeared to be around twenty years old. As she scanned my grocery items, she started a conversation. “‘Amazing Grace.’ I love that song. That is my grandmother’s favorite hymn. She’s not doing so well right now. She’s at home fighting cancer.”
“I am so sorry to hear that your grandmother is ill,” I replied with empathy; then I asked how her grandmother was progressing in her cancer battle.
“She has good days and bad days.”
“Do you mind if I pray for your grandmother?” I asked.
The young lady immediately stopped checking my groceries and stood perfectly still, waiting for me to pray. After moving a few steps closer to her, I bowed my head. My prayer was simple and conversational. I wanted her to understand that prayer is simply having a heartfelt talk with a holy God. You can stop and talk to God at any moment. There was a confident sense of knowing God was hearing our prayer as we
asked God to heal the young lady’s grandmother. She listened with her eyes closed as I thanked God for her courage to tell me of her grandmother’s plight. “Lord, give her courage and boldness to live her life as a witness for Christ in front of her young peers,” I ended the prayer. She said “Amen” with me.
Afterward, I encouraged her to be faithful to God and continue to advocate for her aging grandmother. I paid for my groceries, bid her a “God bless you,” and was headed for the exit when a dear lady stopped me and asked me to pray for her husband, who was not serving the Lord. After I prayed with her, I made my way to my car where another woman met me in the parking lot. She identified herself as a single mother and asked me to pray for her and her small children.
It was evident that day in the Piggly Wiggly that the people there needed the Lord. It was also obvious to me that everywhere I go, there are people in my path who are desperate for Jesus to shine on their circumstances. Some of them are dangling by a thread, so to speak. Others are facing gigantic mountains. With just a few words of encouragement, I could be a lifeline. Here’s what I learned that day: Shining the light for Christ is not a random act. It’s an intentional response to the needs of others.
Maybe you have been a recipient of someone’s generosity, thoughtfulness, or show of empathy. Has anyone ever encouraged you with just the right words, seemingly when you needed it most? Perhaps someone has surprised you by paying for your meal when you ate out or treated you to a cup of specialty coffee. Maybe a stranger held the door open for you or helped you get your groceries in or out of your vehicle. Possibly someone remembered your birthday when you thought everyone had forgotten. Kindness can mean being friendly, giving generously, or showing empathy. You don’t have to give an impromptu concert at Piggly Wiggly. But within your sphere of influence, wherever that leads, you can be ready to meet a need when God brings the opportunity to you.
Excerpted from Each One Reach One © 2024 Babbie Y. Mason. Used by permission of David C Cook. May not be further reproduced. All rights reserved.
