That's beautiful, Pete: Thanks for sharing.

A while back, I posted a story on here about the 105 year old woman. It's since grown into a final chapter for my book. This is the chapter. Be forewarned. It talks about my faith. If that's bothersome to it, you can skip to whoever posts next. Not trying to proselytize here. Mudcat has been an inspiration for several chapters in my book.

The Cosmos and the Check-out Clerk

        I was talking with my old friend Reverend Dennis Albrecht the other day. It's been many years since we last talked, but it felt like only a few days had passed. Dennis moved away and we'd lost contact with each other. I tracked him down through my old church where he was my pastor. It was Dennis who first encouraged me to write, and I felt the need to rekindle our friendship and express my appreciation for all that he'd done for me.
        The old enthusiasm was still there. Dennis talked about his reading and writing about God's revelation in the universe. He mentioned a book he'd been reading, Your God Is Too Small by J.B. Phillips, and as soon as we were off the phone, I ordered a copy. So many of the books in my library were recommended by Dennis that it felt like old times ordering the book. I told Dennis about my book, and thanked him for his inspiration and belief in me. Several of the chapters I've written grew out of letters to him.
The next day, I received an e-mail from Dennis, responding to the chapters that I'd sent to him. He wrote" I went through them quickly, but they have the Rasmussen flavor --- down to earth and clear." Reading that, I had to laugh. Dennis had the universe covered, and I was keeping my eyes out down here on earth.
In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. (Genesis 1:1-2)
        And so it began. God is revealed in all that he has created. Being earth-bound, it is hard to comprehend the magnificence of the heavens. We stand here in awe, observing God's handiwork.
        It was on a night many years ago when I was out visiting my family in Wisconsin. My parents had gone to bed and I was feeling restless. There not being a whole lot to do in town, I drove out into the country. In the years that had passed since I'd left the Midwest I'd come to appreciate the sky. In New England, our view is often obscured by mountains and forests and I found that I missed the open vistas of the prairies. As I was driving along, I began to see faint ribbons of colored lights gently flowing across the evening sky. I pulled my car over to the shoulder of the road and stepped out. There was nothing around me but open fields illuminated by the brightest display of the Northern Lights that I'd ever seen. Many years before, I'd sat in the observation dome of an old world war II bomber flying over the Arctic ocean, watching the Northern Lights up close, but nothing compared to that night. As I stood there silently watching the ever-shifting ribbons of color, I felt like I was standing on holy ground. I marveled at the glory of God that was revealed in the prairie sky.
        When I drove back to my parent's house, I saw my nephew Mike standing in the street. At the time, he was staying next door to my parent's house. Even though the tree-lined street partially obscured the view, he was standing there marveling at the sky. He had been driving through the country at the same time I was and like me, he had pulled over to watch the display of light. We stood there together for a few minutes lost in thought before wishing each other a good night and heading inside.
        If you're looking for God, you don't have far to go. He reveals himself in everything that we do throughout the most ordinary day. Mountain top or prairie fields experiences are rare gifts to be savored and remembered. But it is in the valleys of our days where God's presence gives us strength and comfort.
        It seems like every time I shop in the store she's working at the check-out counter. Even though she often looks weary, she always has a smile on her face as she greets the customers approaching her register. The backbone of a store isn't the manager, as some might lead you to believe. It is the person who waits on you. Christ recognized the importance of service, and any job that is done out of a love for the Lord can be a ministry.
And whosever will be chief among you, let him be your servant: Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many. (Matthew 20:27-28)
        Standing there in line the other day I watched as a frail, elderly woman slowly placed her few items on the conveyor belt. She appeared to be lost in thought, her mind far away. When the woman at the register saw the woman, she broke into a warm smile and asked the woman how she was doing. As the woman reached across the counter to take her small packages, they spoke briefly to each other, the check-out clerk expressing her sympathy to the woman at the loss of her husband. It was only a brief moment in time, but I believe it meant a lot to the elderly woman just to know someone cared about her.
        When Christ chose his apostles, he didn't select the people held in the highest esteem. Peter, Andrew, James, and John were simple fishermen. If Jesus came back today and chose apostles, he would look into people's hearts to see the love of his father dwelling there. He would not be impressed with titles. He might well call a check-out clerk. You know he'd call some women. He is still calling us to follow him.
        If you are looking for God, he's not hard to find. He is in the weed that pushes its way up through a crack in the sidewalk, reminding us of the sanctity of life. He is there in the check-out clerk who stops for a moment to comfort an elderly woman who has just lost her husband. You can see him in the vastness of the universe he created and hear him in the silence of a cold mountain lake at sunrise. God is everywhere.

Hmmm... wrong story... I thought this was the chapter with the 105 year old woman. That did become a chapter in my book, too. Oh well...

Jerry