Thirteen blankets lay neatly folded (mostly), piled high and waiting for a ride to Sioux Falls.
I had a trip planned this past Friday to visit a shelter, help serve lunch or mingle with the crowd, and hand out blankets to thirteen cold people.
But as is the trend, a winter storm was creeping in for the weekend. I went to bed unsure of what Friday morning would bring. Maybe nothing substantial would happen. Or maybe I would be snowed in.
Even as I prayed about it before I crawled into bed that night before Friday, I sensed God telling me to stay behind. As I pushed the snooze button early the next morning, I still felt the prompt to stay home.
When I got up for the day, I quickly saw that travel would not have been overly difficult. And I wondered why I thought I heard Him tell me to stay home. Because now thirteen people would not have blankets that day.
Maybe I wasn't prepared well enough for the trip. I hadn't done anything to pack up my car, get myself ready mentally, or anything else travel-related.
Maybe there was another reason I needed to be home that day. Was it the chance to work on other blankets? Be at the high school game that night?
Maybe my trip had too much "me" in it. After the shelter, I planned to make a few personal stops of my own. Seemed kinda backwards to volunteer to help the homeless and then go indulge myself in unnecessary things.
I don't know what the reason was. Maybe I misheard. All I know now is these blankets remain, warming no one except my cat. (When she can't lay on them, she settles in next to them.)
But I really want them to not be in my living room any longer, not doing what they're intended for.
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