And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
-Romans 8:28

There are a tremendous number of places, in the world, that, by their very nature, could be considered conducive to socializing; coffee shops, clubs, restaurants and the like. All of these places are selling something, made more palatable by the promise of human interaction. It works...it has always worked.

Equally as noteworthy, are the vast number of places that are hostile to any attempt at casual communication. Well, in my estimation, there are none more destructive to the possibility of a good conversation than the line at the pharmacy.

This is not a happy place. In fact, it is a strange netherworldly exercise in awkwardness, the winner of which gains the coveted prize of making it through the ordeal without actually being noticed by anyone else...even by the clerk. No, you won't hear people carelessly going on about kids, dogs, music or their favorite whatever. Nor will you see anyone looking anywhere except the floor...or the counter if it's their turn to be served. Fluorescent beams of light colliding with terrazzo floor tiles become somehow menacing, as the drone of the chair-massager in the little waiting-cubby promises to exacerbate the already rising level of anxiety in the air.

Today, I waited in a pharmacy line. Today, I was there to pick up something very important for someone else. In addition, today was one of the worst days I have had in quite a long time. It was one of those days that wouldn't be at all ironic enough, unless I had to stand in a pharmacy line too. The minutes, as drops of sap from winter branches, barely moved as I reflected on how glad I would be to be done with this and on my way.

Well, as you would expect on a day like today, they couldn't find the prescription I came for. As the line grew and serpentined around the corner, I noticed they recruited a couple more people to join the search. One of them was visibly upset, I gathered, by the way she threw the bins around while her supervisor kept chewing her out for not having it. They were so flustered, they kept looking in the same bins, but nothing materialized anew.

Eventually, like hopeless soldiers returning to base after a lost battle, they apologized to me, stating that they just didn't have it and that they could order it now...that I could pick it up tomorrow. Didn't they understand? This was a medication that absolutely could not be missed. No, sir. I became angry. I lifted my eyes from their usual focal point on the counter to engage the pharmacy technician in a dissatisfied tone. I began to explain my situation. Then suddenly, like a bag of wet cement, my anger dropped the floor.

Just past her shoulder, on the wall behind, was mounted a large mirror. In that mirror was me...my face telling the obvious story of my feelings about this ordeal. And even though it appeared backwards, there was no mistaking the word "Jesus" written in black letters across the front of my shirt. Oh, and they were looking at my shirt too.

Feeling deflated and ashamed, I then surrendered, simply smiled and replied "It's okay, no problem." They then promised that I could pick it up, free of charge when it arrived. We are self pay, currently, so you can imagine how wonderful this news really was. Now, I could put a little more food in the fridge, so to speak. God is good.

Arriving home with some food instead of medicine, and with some explaining to do, me and the Jesus on my shirt went in the house prepared for more trouble. It was then, that I was notified that I had a message on the phone from the pharmacy that they found it and I could come back and pick it up, right away.

As I approached the automatic doors some minutes later, it all came into perspective. There was a woman there, outside, with two kids in a shopping cart that wasn't there before. She was well dressed and well kempt, as were her children. Yet, by the look in her eye, I knew what was coming. She struggled with the words. She was shaking and her chin was quivering. She managed to say these words through tears: "It takes courage...". Indeed it does. Especially for her. You see, this woman was not accustomed to this...asking people for money on the street. This was a woman who, until just recently, was not in need. Believe me, it was obvious.

I did what I felt led to do and then returned home, swimming with the thought, that had I not been sent home empty handed in the first place, I would not have received a free prescription, which would have prevented me from getting some much needed groceries for my family, thereby leaving enough means to help a woman who was too scared to ask anyone for money except for me...because, well, because I had Jesus on my shirt.

And, friends, when God moves, he never takes care of just one situation, need, or just one problem. No, he works for the good of all who love him, with an immeasurably complex plan that joins us all together. Both that woman and I had choices to make today. I had to choose to let forgiveness trump anger and she had to choose courage over fear. In both cases, the name of Jesus, on a shirt, was the deciding factor.

Some days, more than others, I am reminded of just how unworthy I am. Yep, today was one of the best days I've had in quite a long time.