The Turkey - A Re-Post in Honor of Thanksgiving

We were flat broke with several more days to payday. With three kids to feed and a pantry nearly bare, things looked pretty grim. I mentioned my concern to a close friend at work.

"Remember when God paid your insurance? If He will do that, he will surely feed your family as well. Trust Him."

She then told me this story.  A flood ravaged a small community, forcing many residents onto their roofs to await rescue. One man stood in ankle deep water and prayed to God, begging to be rescued. God promised He would.

 A rescue helicopter flew over and lowered a rope. The man waved them off. God was going to rescue him and he didn’t need the helicopter. The crew shook their heads at the man’s foolishness and moved off in search of other victims.

 
Two men in a rowboat stopped and offered to help. He refused them. Again stating God was going to rescue him.

A surge of water swept the man off the roof, and he drowned. Standing before God he asked why He hadn’t saved him as He promised.

God replied, “I sent you a helicopter and a row boat, what more did you want?”                                                                                                                 Author Unknown

I thought about the story as I drove home that afternoon. Okay, whatever God sent my way, by whatever means, I would not decline the offer. I would accept a helicopter or a rowboat. 

I didn't expect God to send me a turkey.

A twenty-pound turkey, thawed and ready to cook sat in my kitchen sink. I knew it didn't just materialize. Someone had put it there. Only one person, besides the family, who had a key to the house, was my mother.

I called her and listened to a story almost as amazing as if the bird had materialized out of thin air.

Several days prior, the freezer belonging to a woman neither of us knew malfunctioned and everything thawed. Most of the food the woman could either cook or transfer to the freezer in her refrigerator, but the twenty-pound turkey wouldn't fit. Rather than deal with it, she offered it to a neighbor. The neighbor accepted it, then decided she didn't want it. She passed it to a friend. That friend passed it on to someone else. 

The bird traveled from home to home across town, finally reaching my mother. My dad hated turkey, but Mother knew my family liked it. So, she accepted it on my behalf and brought it down to the house just before I arrived. By that time, the bird was completely thawed and ready to cook. Dinner would be late, but there certainly would be plenty.

And now, every Thanksgiving when I look at the turkey, I see images of helicopters, rowboats, and a turkey in my kitchen sink. I bow my head and say, "Thank you."