Cheese from Heaven

“Did you see what I think I saw?” my husband asked one day as we drove around on errands. He stopped, backed up a few feet, opened the door, and leaned over. I expected him to wave a hooked stretch cord for securing loads—the ones notorious for popping off while you whiz down a highway. Most are missing a hook, but he gives his “finds” a second life by harvesting hooks from others found along the road. This time, however, the “find” wasn’t black. It was yellow, as in grated mozzarella cheese, a renegade that apparently jumped ship (or at least a grocery-laden pickup truck). The cheese was still cold and just had a tire-crunched corner.

Usually we try to find owners of lost things. My husband once turned into police a bank bag full of money lost on the street. We’ve tried to find owners of watches and cell phones. But who’d place an ad that said, “Found: Package of cheese. Call to identify”? We just thanked the One who rained down this cheesy manna, popped it in the freezer, and used it for months.

I believe God delights in pouring out “creative manna” for our needs, especially when we share the stories about these unexpected blessings and give Him the credit.

Recently our neighbors mentioned they wanted a used newspaper delivery tube. Theirs got misplaced when the house was painted. For weeks we watched at yard sales or thrift stores, but nothing had shown up. Then one night at dusk, my husband called me outside. I thought he had a romantic view of the moon in mind. Instead, he led me to another neighbor’s overflowing garbage can, perched on the sidewalk for disposal the next morning. Yes, a bright orange paper delivery box was peeking out the top.

This was just a week after I was trying to pull together a set of photos to illustrate my internet blog series on Heaven. One week’s essay compared the end of time to the beautiful view from a view home. Our home has no view deck. Instead, a leaning back fence hides someone’s derelict sheds full of junk and bad-mannered cats. I remembered the view from a friend’s lovely hillside home, but lacked the nerve to call her.

Meanwhile, I needed other photos for blog illustrations. One took me to the paint aisle of a local mega-mart. There I snapped the rainbow of paint samples for the essay about Heaven’s colors. On the way home, I decided to detour up to my friend’s neighborhood. Maybe, I thought, from the road I could photograph the corner of someone’s deck with the valley showing below. That way, I wouldn’t interfere with someone’s privacy. But no vantage seemed right. Just as I turned around to head home, my friend drove up behind me. Giving her a happy wave, I explained my mission. “Oh, just follow me home,” she said cheerfully. Of all times to be on her street and encounter her…

Coincidences? I don’t think so. I see God’s hand in the background, orchestrating the gifts and events that remind us of how He delights to supply our needs. Even ones we weren’t planning on, “pressed down, shaken together, and running over…poured into [our] lap” (Luke 6:38). Or just waiting on a street.