I arrived early at the church office when a new friend who I served with walked in from the break room.
“Hey, Cherie! I thought you weren’t here on Mondays.”
“Yes, normally I’m here Tuesday and Thursday, but I wasn’t doing anything today and I couldn’t think of a better place to be.”
Maribeth smiled brightly, carrying a gift bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Well, this works out perfectly,” she said. My friend handed me the little gold bag she tied neatly with a silver ribbon.
“For me? How sweet.” I grasped the bottom of the bag. “Wow, it’s heavy.”
“You’re going to think I am nuts, but Jesus told me to give you this teapot. I do not know what it means, or if you are even supposed to keep it. It may be meant for you to give to someone else. All I know is I’m supposed to give you this teapot!”
Holy Spirit bumps ran up my arms.
The teapot was short and stout, made of cast iron. Doing everything I could do to hold back my tears, I told my dear friend, “You are not going to believe this, but my mother collects teapots. It was her birthday two days ago, and I could not afford to buy a gift for her.”
Our eyes teared up as we knew… we knew the lover of our soul took note. He saw into our heart. He saw a need. He heard my cry. He heard the cries of my mom’s heart and wanted to reveal Himself to her. Being known by our Savior brings the utmost comfort amidst the darkest nights of the soul.
I continued to share more of the backstory. “I always try to make my mother’s birthday very special. You see, my sister, Jami, died a few days after our mother’s birthday, fifteen years ago. As a matter of fact, the anniversary of Jami’s homegoing is in a couple of days. Mom began collecting teapots when she died. They remind her of Jami singing as a little girl, “I’m a little teapot, short and stout…”.
I imagined my friend shrugging her shoulders and giggling at Jesus’ sense of humor as she wrapped up the teapot, tucking a note inside, signed, “Love, J.C.” The teapot came at just the perfect time and was the perfect Christmas gift for Mom.
Jesus never fails to amaze me with his subtle ways of expressing His love for us. In the blink of an eye, we can miss an opportunity to be the hands and feet of Jesus. We must keep our eyes on Him and trust those nudges.
Believe. Belong. Be loved.
