When He Gives A Sign…

Dearest Rachel –

There’s something mildly ironic about the fact that I just put out a study that you did (like I do most Sundays), and in my comments about it, questioned how we can know whether our choices glorify God. Most of the time, it’s because the decisions we face appear, even to ourselves, to be fairly inconsequential in terms of obtaining such results; do they really matter, in the grand scheme of things? And as a general rule, they probably don’t (although again, sometimes even the littlest things, such as a choice of words, can have the direst of consequences). But every once in a while, you come across a situation where the path is made clear to you, like a sign from God Himself, saying “this is something you need to do, and do right now.”

So it was yesterday afternoon, as I was headed to church to take my place in the booth.

I probably need to explain, as there are two parts to this story, one of which required me to act somewhat out of character. You know that places like garage sales and thrift stores have rarely been a haunt of mine; that was more your thing, back in the day. Oh, I would get the odd piece of clothing (or costume material) when I was in college and needed something cheap and cheerful. But I never frequented places like Goodwill and such – indeed, I’ve spent considerably more time and effort dropping off stuff there, particularly as part of the house clearing efforts under Jan’s guidance than I ever spent actually shopping there. Well, apart from the occasional time I would accompany you to one of these things (although often, you’d go garage saling during the day, while I was at work).

And that’s the point; bargain hunting, especially in second hand markets, was something you particularly enjoyed. It was like going on safari; there was nothing like the thrill of finding something on sale for a fraction of its real value. Believe me, I understood when you managed to discover something you considered to be a true treasure, and was more than happy to celebrate with you when it happened. But as a general rule, I didn’t go seeking out secondhand bargains just because they were there. When I went (and when I go) shopping, I’d get what I needed, regardless of whether it was on sale (although if there was leeway, such as when choosing a breakfast cereal, just as an example, I’d pay attention to the prices, and select accordingly); I wouldn’t just go browsing for bargains. To reference an old Monty Python joke we would exchange on the subject now and again, I wouldn’t know what to do with a piston engine, anyway – unless my car needed one urgently, in which case I’d be getting advice from an automotive expert, and not trying to get it on the cheap. After all, there are times when the expression “you get what you pay for” implies that you end up paying dearly either with or after the purchase, and you’re better off not waiting until after.

As for the thing I ‘needed’ at present, well… that’s where it could be considered debatable. I’ve told you about my gym routine, and the things that I generally work out on; part of my cool-down routine involves using several free weights (which I should point out is a misnomer, as 1.) you have to pay for the membership in order to use them, and 2.) you’re not allowed to take them home with you). I’m usually only able to do a dozen curls and a similar number of lifts before I’m both tired of doing them and being there in the first place. At the same time, I know I need to work on my upper body strength; and if I can convert fat spread throughout my body into muscles in my arms, there’s no argument that this would be a good thing. Why not have a couple such weights at home to work on even as I’m sitting around watching videos?

The thing is, I’ve no idea what a set of dumbbells costs – or perhaps, more to the point, what they should cost. I’d seen a 20- or 25-pound (I forget what it weighed, in all honesty) model in Meijer, of all places, for about $35, and I didn’t know if I’d do any better at some sporting goods emporium. In any event, at this point, it was just an idea in the back of my mind; nothing urgent, just something to consider in the near future.

With all that background having been explained, I was on my way to church early yesterday afternoon, when I spotted a sign on the corner, not unlike those for garage, yard or estate sales, indicating that something was going on further up the side street I was passing at the time. Except, this particular sale was much more specific: the sign read “Dumbbell Sale,” followed by the address.

Well.

I may be a little dense when it comes to knowing what God wants me to do sometimes (oh, let’s not mince words: frequently), but considering that I’d been musing about this topic off and on for the past few weeks, this was a sign, literally. I turned the car around and headed up the side street.

The house in question had a truck with a trailer behind it, absolutely loaded with boxes. This was, I discovered, the remnants of a warehouse the owners of the house were emptying out, in a sort of ‘everything must go’ divestiture of the patriarch’s business. I inquired about sizes and prices, and was told that they had weights from 5 to 50 pounds, all to be sold at a dollar per pound. Since all I had on me (apart from a handful of singles) was a couple twenties and a ten-spot, I got myself a couple 25-pound weights, which, while slightly more than I generally have been working out with at the gym up until now, I thought would be better for me to grow myself into. So I hauled them to the car, and once the evening’s service was over, brought them home.

By now, you’re probably wondering why I didn’t include a picture of the sign, since that was so much a part of my little story. Well, I had intended to, but as I didn’t think to snap a picture yesterday, I figured I’d get a head start on things this morning so I would have time to shoot it today; I’d assumed that, like with garage sales and the like, it would still be going on. But no – the sign was gone this morning, as was the trailer. This was a one-day-only chance, and I guess I got it. One more thought that this was meant to be.

Now, to be fair, I don’t know how much God really cares about my attempts to exercise; I could probably argue that it’s an effort to buff up the pillars of His temple that is my body, but that feels like I’m reaching for a justification. Then again, He allowed this little opportunity to fall into my lap, even as I’d been thinking about whether I ‘needed’ to have something like these dumbbells available for home use and absently making good use of otherwise unproductive time, so I can’t entirely discount the possibility. If He holds together even the quarks and leptons throughout the universe, who’s to say that He wouldn’t occasionally concern Himself with some minor aspect of my life like this?

Anyway, I’d best sign off for now; I could probably stand to push them around a bit, and get my money’s worth out of them. Keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.