A blog submitted by Parker

A very dear friend of mine posted this blog someplace else and graciously gave me permission to post here. I just loved it. Thank you so much Parker for sharing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
 
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Being on time is problematic for me; it always has been. Today I knew I had several stops to make before picking up the two young boys that I baby-sit. First, I had to mail my Mom’s Mother’s Day card (that was a must) and second with the fuel gauge on ’E’ it was also imperative that I make that stop at the gas station (not the closest one mind you, but the cheapest one).
 
The Post Office was my first stop and needless to say it was no huge surprise to find that the line was already a long one and moving nowhere. Even though I knew I needed to ‘be in a hurry’, let’s face it- I wasn’t. Several minutes passed and most everyone in line was looking around, shuffling from foot to foot, huffing because things weren’t moving fast enough, their eyes and heads were bobbing around like those bobble head dolls with a look of 'when will this all end'.
 
Behind me in the distance (at least 3 or 4 people back), I heard the voice of a woman- who having not seen her when she walked in, would probably have described her as elderly. Before I knew it, I found myself drawn to her voice and her conversation with the gentleman in front of her. (Now don’t give me that…you guys know you listen in on other people’s conversations whether you want to or not)
I heard her say something to the effect of ‘so many people waiting in line for a single stamp‘. The guy acknowledged her comment in a polite nonchalant sort of way.
 
A moment or two of silence fell upon my ears except for the postal worker saying ‘next’ (granted the official United States Postal employee was very nice, but it sort of reminded me of ’Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. However instead of ’Bueller, Bueller, Bueller…I heard next…well, you get the picture)
 
The elderly lady began to speak again and she mentioned that ‘she knew the lines would be long and so she brought along a book to read‘. Again, silence fell until I heard the lady reading aloud. At first, I thought maybe she had found some interesting sentence and just wanted to share it with someone; because at that time I was only catching a word here and there. But they were familiar words; words that I had heard somewhere before...church, seminary....
 
After I heard her reading aloud, I must have become tuned into what she was reading because her words grew louder. By now my curiosity had grown so, that I had to turn around and see who this woman was and what she was reading. She was just as I had pictured. She was an elderly looking woman with this worn weathered beaten look about her. Her reading was like that of a child, but so sweet and hushed…unlike anything I had ever heard before. She never looked up, but kept her face and her hand poignantly on her book…
Strangely the Post Office became eerily quiet, yet wonderfully exciting (I have not been drinking and I’m not on drugs). As I intently concentrated on what she was reading, I heard the words ever so clearly…
 
“Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”
 
I was now at the counter ready to send my Mom’s much belated Mother’s Day card and could no longer hear the woman reading. But what I did notice was that everything seemed to slow down and the ‘huffing’ and shuffling of the people and papers seemed to be removed.
My time in the Post Office had ended and for once I left there with a smile. Maybe it was because I thought of the enormity of what this woman had done and maybe it was because I knew what followed next in this passage from John:
“Philip said to him, ’Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.’ Jesus said to him, ’Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me?”
 
By the way, the reason I was late in sending my mom’s card was because I made her one this year. For some strange reason, last week my printer decided to quit working and it wasn’t until last night that I finally managed to fix it. Had it been working correctly last week, I would have missed this face of God for one postage stamp….