Two weeks after the day my world fell apart I met my sister for lunch on the beach. We sat clutching our drive-thru containers, jackets zipped up against the wind, our bodies anchoring the beach chairs for fear they would go tumbling across the sand like that woman’s hat. We giggled as she raced off after it.
Blue sky, sunshine, toes in the sand seemed like the safest meeting place. And while waves played their incessant therapy I began to verbalize my chaos. I needed to talk about it. Tell someone close to me what was going on. And it felt comforting to have her listen.
I finished the last spoonful of my chili then gathered our empty containers and, while she held onto my chair, I walked to the trash can located up near the dunes. The soft white sand felt good, and as I stepped close to the garbage bin, I noticed something sticking out of the sand at my feet. I disposed of my containers, then stooped to pick it up. It was a folded 20-dollar bill. I opened it up, spilling sand as I read the words “In God we trust.”
Funny, I had never noticed those words on a twenty before. The one-dollar bill, yes. But a twenty?
In God we trust.
It was a message for me. Just for me. God had placed twenty bucks on the beach for me, anchoring it in the sand on the windiest day of November. Kept it there in front of the garbage so He could tell me that He sees me.
You see, I felt like garbage. Like I had been crumpled up and tossed out, discarded and unwanted. Worthless. My husband’s words reverberating in my brain as he told me about his girlfriend, “She’s my soulmate.”
And I was thrown away.
But God wanted me. He saw me and He recognized my value. And He wanted me to know it, so He placed something of value in front of the garbage and told me to trust Him. Just trust Him.
In God I trust.