The Deacon with the Toffee

When I was little, at least younger than six, my family went to a Southern Baptist Church. I remember very few things from that church—random Sunday school memories, the way my classroom looked, and names and faces here and there. (One of my classmates works at a local Chick-fil-a. It surprised me a lot when I first recognized him! That’s off topic though…) One of the things my brain chose to remember though is a dear, old Southern Baptist deacon who kept toffees in his pockets to give to little children. He may have only given me one once, but I still remember it and still love that candy. I’ve never seen him again—he’s probably with the Lord—but in his own small way he blessed a very shy little girl.

In my post "In the 'Out'" I mentioned that everywhere you are there are always people to minister to who are in the out with you. I often find it hard to figure out who to talk to at social events. I don’t always exactly fit into one of the “categories”. I’ve discovered that the categories I work best with (not to say I shouldn’t try with all of them) are those of the little children and the lonely strangers.

Sometimes the little children are running around so fast there’s no time to have a conversation with them, and sometimes the strangers are so shy (or move on after a while) that it’s hard to find ways to be good friends with them.

Then I remember my Toffee Deacon. I remember the lady who smiled at me as we passed each other on the way to the refreshment table at a wedding reception (mostly stranger there—I was a fish out of water). I remember the young man who asked me out of the blue how my stories were going. I remember the young lady who introduced herself at a conference of 3,000 people and was my heaven-sent friend for the next two days. I remember the girls I’ve randomly met and been pen-pals with for a few years. All small instances that made those days better, influenced my life for the better, and gave me friendships if only for a few moments.

So, I’ve decided to smile. To listen. To be their friend as much as they will let me. It hurts a little when one of the ones I was closer to moves on. It hurts a little to think that the little children may not remember me as well as I remember my Toffee Deacon. But I am blessed to know that this is doing the work of love by being the best friend I can.

MercyMe’s song “The Generous Mr. Lovewell” (one of Daddy’s favorites) pretty much sums it up for me. (I suggest looking it up, but please remember that YouTube is a secular website so be careful to guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.)

Have a beautiful day!