I had a humbling experience this morning. I went to our local Curves for my morning workout. Yes, that is humbling in itself, but there was more! :)
One of the staff had a tool box and several wrenches laid out on the floor as she serviced one of the machines. I watched her as I made my way around the circuit. I was breathing hard by the time I reached her and my eyes dropped to the tools. She had laid out a sheet of newspaper under them, and there, peaking out from under a screwdriver and a smudge of grease was my photograph. The first paragraph of my weekly column lay under the handle of a wrench. I was tempted to ask if she'd noticed, if she'd read the column before spreading her tools out over it. I chuckled to myself. So much for the power of the word, I thought.
But then I remembered the woman who wrote a while ago to say how much my column means to her. She's housebound with a debilitating disease and can't even get to church most Sundays. There was also a note from a woman in a country where there are very few believers. She called my column a life-line.
It's letters like those that keep me going. I know not even a wrench on the work can interfere with what God wants to do with it.