The silver-haired woman who lived across the street from us when I was a kid was a mystery to me. Most summer mornings, she sat alone at her front yard picnic table, under the shade of a large pecan tree, doing what appeared to be absolutely nothing.
Curious, I asked my mom why the grandmother-lady just sat there all day. “That’s Mrs. Deeds,” she said. “And she’s not just sitting there. You should go visit with her some time.”
One Saturday morning as I rode my bicycle up and down our residential street, I had one eye on the road and one eye on Mrs. Deeds. She was sitting in her usual spot with a large bowl in her lap—singing! 🎶Plenty good room. Plenty good room. There’s plenty good room on the glory train. 🎶 I’m at a full stop now, eyes gaping. “Come on over, child,” she said with a grin. “I don’t bite.”
I walked my bike up, putting it down in the shade, and sat down across from her. “What’s in the bowl?” I asked. “They’re pecans, child. I’m shelling them to make a pie. I pick up baskets of these from underneath this tree, and I always make good use of them.” Inquisitive and artless, I blurted out the burning question on my mind: “Why do you sit here by yourself all day?”
With an, I-knew-you-would-ask-me-that look she replied, “I’m not alone, child. This is my sittin’ spot with the Lord.” I looked around, like a typical eight-year-old, expecting some guy named “Lord” to appear. “Oh, you can’t see the Lord,” she chuckled. “You feel Him in your heart, and you think about Him in your head.” I learned to shell pecans that day, but most importantly I discovered that God is someone you can know as a friend.
The next winter, during a children’s crusade at the little Baptist church I attended, I came to know the Lord myself. As we sat on the creaky wooden church pews, the evangelist shared with us kids that Jesus died for our sins so we could be friends with God. “Just like Mrs. Deeds!” I thought. Raising my hand, I came forward during the altar call. I wanted to know the Savior who loved me enough to die in my place. Today, forty-seven years later, I have my own sittin’ spot where I meet God every morning.
So the Lord spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend.
Exodus 33:11a (NKJV)
Thank you for reading. 🙏❤️ prayers and love.
This piece was first published in the Sunshine Weekly Newsletter, a publication which is shared in nursing homes and assisted living centers. A special thank you to Peter Caligiuri, aka “Pastor Pete,” for inviting me to contribute a monthly column! Peter blogs at praise2worship.net
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