A young friend of ours recently had to move house from one country town to another. Being on her own at the moment, and living on an extremely tightly balanced budget, she found herself struggling to fund her move at all. I agreed that quotes she had received from vehicle hire companies seemed rather exorbitant, (neither did any of their vehicles contain child seats) so I optimistically volunteered our family’s rather large cage trailer, with my help on moving day.
Our family was aghast – not at my offer to help, but my optimism at fitting even a basic household of stuff into any trailer – no matter how large! My husband then stepped in to help too, and between us all, we hired a small moving truck and trolley for a much more reasonable figure than my friend had originally been quoted. Then, the night before the big move, my husband fell into panic-mode. He was beside himself with worry, that at our age, how we would be able to pack, lift and move a household with just the friend we were helping. Despite my assurances that our friend had help with loading the truck from her end, my husband continued to panic about unloading at the new place without help.
Having shared our dilemma with a friend in our neighbourhood, she promptly spoke of our need to her son who has a vast network of pastoral (among other) contacts. My husband remained skeptical and nervous, but we set off reasonably happily in the moving truck. All went well with the packing, thanks to my friend being extremely well organized, and having a couple of people there who knew how to pack and balance precious things like the fridge, washing machine and flat screen TV. Earlier that day however, I had received a call from a pastor in the area to which my friend was moving. Yes, he sympathized with our situation, but the trouble was that we were moving on a weekday rather than a Saturday, and he doubted he could raise anyone – but still, he would try.
So, with the moving truck absolutely packed to the gills (how on earth did I ever think I cold fit a household into a trailer, I mused?), my husband and I set off for the new place, his anxiety still bubbling as to how the two of us would be able to unload this truck full of household things. We texted our estimated arrival to the pastor, and after a brief lunch stop, we arrived. On that day, two things will always stand out for me; I remain in absolute awe of my husband’s ability to reverse that truck along quite a long and narrow driveway, but he managed to get the truck’s rear-end right up to the new front door.
And I remain even more in awe of the sight that greeted us as we arrived. With that pastor (whose church was only streets away and we did not know that until that moment), stood eight – yes, eight – men of varying ages; all ready and waiting for us to arrive and empty that truck! Within an hour, they had every box large and small, plus every item of furniture off that truck in time for us to return the truck to the hire company depot – with just ten minutes to spare before having to pay for another twenty-four hours! How wonderful was that gesture, let alone the turn-up of all those men to help! What gifts from God, His servant that pastor, the men themselves – and my husband’s faith, as it was lifted way beyond his previously held nervous expectations. How good is God? Exhausted as we were, we marveled at His goodness all of our way home.
Glynis Dickins is the Pastoral Care Pastor at Rosanna Baptist Church, in the North-Eastern suburbs of Melbourne. She is passionate for writing about the wonderful people she has connected with throughout many years of ministry. She also writes short stories and published her first novel in 2014 through Ark House, who have just published her next novel.
Image courtesy Ben White, Freely Photos