It was raining, like only Portland can pour — long, cold and dreary. My roommate had moved out because I had recommitted my life to Christ and the changes were a drag to him. I was broke, unemployed and my cat was really, really hungry, but I didn't have any food for her.
Her famished whining was driving me mad and the depression of where I was at in life was crushing. I had to get out of the apartment to escape the constant meowing, so I headed out for a drenching walk, putting on my best James Dean mimic. I had a usual path to walk that went through a beautiful parkway, but I had an intruding thought to take a left and go through a part of the neighborhood I had never walked.
I was trudging along, praying, grumbling and feeling ridiculously pathetic, when I walked by an elderly woman in a garage who had a stack of wood in her driveway. She looked like she might need it moved into the garage, so I stopped, and felt like I should help her out, even though the thought contradicted my deep mood of self-pity.
I yielded and offered assistance, she gratefully received the help and afterwards handed me $20 for the labor.
I realized in that moment that the whole little out of the ordinarily rainy day walk into that part of the neighborhood, was an answer to my cats hunger, and my prayer. I know it doesn't seem to earth shaking, but that day I truly knew God cared about my life, even matters as seemingly insignificant as a the need of a drop out and his hungry cat.
