I make frequent visits to our local grocery store, but they are not my favorite outings. Every now and then, however, something special happens . . . a God moment . . . even at my local Kroger.
One time, I was pushing my cart up and down the aisles when I looked up and saw a dear friend, Polly Saculla. We visited a bit about this and that—things of no consequence, like hair products and the busyness of our lives. It was not long though before our conversation turned to deeper things, matters of the soul.
One of Polly’s sons, Josh, was killed in a bull riding accident on July 3, 2016. On that Sunday during the 11th Annual Bash in La Grange, a bull swerved unexpectedly. Josh fell and the bull stepped on his right rib cage. He walked out of the arena and then collapsed. He died at the arena, participating in a sport that he loved, surrounded by cowboys who loved him. He was twenty-eight years old.
Although Polly and I had communicated through texts and social media, I had not seen her face to face since the accident. I had often wondered what I could say to encourage her if I saw her. Could I convey how deeply my husband and I felt about her family’s pain and loss? Now, standing in Kroger next to the deli meat and bacon, we opened our hearts to one another as if no one else was in the store.
She reminded me of the earlier years in Josh’s life when she and her husband, Johnny, were so concerned about him. Like many young boys, Josh had chosen a path from time to time that God would not have chosen for him. She shared they had watched him learn from his mistakes and return to a deep faith in Jesus Christ. Her eyes sparkled as she recounted the nights she would wake up, and seeing the light on in his room, she’d get up and peek in his door. There he would be, reading his Bible with the bedside light on.
After Josh’s death, Johnny continued to go to the bull riding events since he was the chaplain for the group and spoke after the rides on Sundays. Polly said she could not go with him at first. Cody, their oldest son, talked to her one day and encouraged her to attend with his dad. Listening to her son and to her heart, she went the next week and has been going ever since. In going to those events, God showed that sweet momma her son in a whole new way. The boys became her family and began to share with her stories about Josh that she would have never known if she had not gone.
“People have asked me if I am mad at God. How could I be mad at God, Peggy? I know how much He loves me. I do not understand why my Josh was taken so early, but I trust God’s heart and His love for me.”
As we stood there in Kroger, I felt as though we had entered a holy place. I had wondered what I would say to Polly, but in those moments by the bacon, God had sent His Holy Spirit to dwell in our conversation. It was Polly who ministered to me. Thank you, Polly, for being a surrendered vessel of His presence. Thank you for ministering to me in a deep way in a very unexpected setting. Thank you for reminding me that God is always sufficient. I won’t forget it.
