A Trader Joe's Svithe - Real life, on purpose.

You may remember my Trader Joe’s adventure from last month. It resulted in this pound cake and my new-found obsession with lemon curd. (By the way, lemon curd on waffles? WAY better than maple syrup.)

On our way out to the car, we were stopped by a grandmotherly woman who was clearly smitten by my little towhead. She could not stop gushing about how beautiful Mila is, and when Mila began nodding and jabbering at her, she was delighted. “She’s so smart! She’s so sweet! Oh, she’s so precious!” It was a little excessive, even for a doting mama.

Then the woman turned to me and asked about my pregnancy. When are you due? Do you know the gender of the new baby? Oh, how wonderful it will be to have sisters; they’ll be best friends! She just could not say enough sweet things about my children, myself, my circumstances.

And then after all this gushing (which I confess was getting a little old, as I was anxious to go home and dive into my blueberries) she asked for my name. I told her, and she said the sweetest thing a perfect stranger has ever said to me:

“Jen, I am going to go home and pray for you and your lovely family. You are already so blessed, but I will pray that God will grant you a safe and easy delivery, and to have a beautiful life with your husband and two girls.”

She said goodbye and that was it. I will likely never see her again, and even if I did I wouldn’t recognize her. But she is somewhere, and she has prayed for me by name. I almost can’t wrap my head around the kind of love that motivates such an act. I mean, undoubtedly my family and friends have prayed for specific things for me like that, because they know and love me, but for a stranger to offer such a kindness? It kind of blows my mind.

The world is full of good people. Not just good people. People who know how to really see others and love them the way God sees and loves us. I feel so blessed to have met one of them. I hope I can be more like her. More like a follower of Jesus Christ should be.