Waiting for an answer to prayer…

This is a story about flip-flops. Not to be mistaken with my previous post this week about praying for a real way out. Hold back the laughter please.

My old flips flops were about two years old, still technically usable but had big holes in them. I didn’t have the money or the desire to buy new ones. So I was looking for hand-me-downs or second-hand store finds to replace the ones I wear now. But it turns out most men want to use their sandals until they aren’t usable anymore, like I do with mine. In the end, I thought I could always get me some Dollar Tree flip flops, slave-labor and all, simply because I was running out of time (yes I take having some flip flops that seriously!). Instead, but partially as a way to procrastinate on going to the store, I decided to pray, asking God for some flip flops, and wait a little longer.

Then I was running out the door yesterday and I couldn’t find my hole-y sandals anywhere, probably because things in our house right now are extra cluttered with Gaby’s Birthday party preparations. I searched under beds, looked in every room, and tried to make everyone at home look for them. With no luck. It’s always someone else’s fault when my sandals go missing, but since I was in a hurry and couldn’t keep looking, I got down one last time and looked under our bedroom dresser just in case they got shoved under there somehow. Well, they weren’t there.

But, to my chagrin, I found another pair of old flip flops that were in surprisingly better shape than the ones I lost in the first place. So, after brushing a few cobwebs aside, I felt much better about my feet being covered, and they worked just fine.

Maybe abundance (even a little excess?) isn’t such a bad thing when you’re poor.