An Impulse

It was a regular Sunday morning in 2010.  Regular, as in, it wasn’t a holiday like Christmas or Mother’s day or anything like that.  My siblings, to my constant dismay, were still in their phase of extreme laziness.

My brother regularly woke up at 5am for work on weekdays.  My sister was pretty good about waking up at a decent time to get ready and be on time for college classes.  But when Sunday rolled around, everything changed.  I had to take on the responsible role of waking up around 7:30am, so that I could start to wake them up.  You’d be amazed the amount of times a sleepy person can ask for “5 more minutes” of sleep, among other things…

“Tell daddy to come and wake me up”

“I have an alarm set, okay?”

“Use the bathroom first, then I’ll wake up”

Ideally, it would be good to be out the door by 8:45, to get to church at ~9.  Even then, it’s cutting it close because of parking.  At their worst, they sometimes wouldn’t roll out of bed until 8:30.  My brother could get away with it because he got ready in a matter of 5 minutes anyway.  My sister… on average takes about 45 minutes.  I would go on to learn that my siblings really didn’t want to go to first service (Sunday School for us), so this was their way of avoiding it.  So they would take their sweet time getting up and getting dressed.

Anyway, onto the meat of the story.

On this particular Sunday, we were out the door at 9:30.  And for Sunday’s that we left that late, my brother always rationalized:

“Well, we’re already super late, let’s get some McDonalds.”

And so he did.

I normally have time to warm something up and eat it before I get ready.  So I only ate one breakfast burrito, which left another and a hashbrown up for grabs.  When we finally got to church, my siblings went to hang out in the courtyard; they were intent on ditching 1st service altogether.  As I was crossing the street, a weird impulse trickled down my spine.  Though I had growing confidence, I was still quite shy.  I blurted out a “good morning” as I passed by the security guard / crossing guard.  He smiled and waved like he always did to everyone else.  I would probably normally look down and not make eye contact.

Before I totally passed him, I stopped.  The weird impulse completed its nudging.

“Hey, I have some extra breakfast I couldn’t finish.  Would you like it?”  I asked as I held up the McDonalds bag.

He smiled and accepted my kind gesture.  He went on to tell me that his car broke down earlier that morning, so he didn’t have time to get his morning coffee or anything like that.  He wouldn’t have been able to eat anything until after his shift, which ends after 1.

Holy Spirit or mere coincidence or reason-for-everything or not, that was still really cool…

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