Be Blessed in the Doing

Have you ever been listening to a sermon when a phrase suddenly overtook your mind? It’s as though it holds your thoughts hostage momentarily and says, “Remember me always.” Then your body pulls back a bit from the sudden focus, until the phrase grabs you again and says, “No, really. I need you to remember me always.”

So you say, “Fine.” But then your mind is yours again, the sermon ends, and life goes on. That’s what happened five years ago when my pastor, Neil McClendon, said “Be blessed in the doing” as he was preaching on James 1:25: “But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing” (ESV). I had no idea what would happen five years later, a few days before last Christmas.

That day, I opened my car door to find a ham in the driver’s seat. Someone had given us a ham? And put it in my car? How delightfully bizarre! I was grateful to whomever was responsible for anonymously executing a drive-by hamming.

The next day I went to my local grocery store and asked the woman at the meat counter if she would slice the ham. She lifted her glasses and examined the label. “We don’t sell this brand, so I don’t think I can do that.”

“Oh, well, that’s all right. I figured it was worth a try!” I said, knowing it was a long shot. I reached to put the ham back in my cart, but then she said, “I can ask my manager,” and she took the ham with her to a back room.

I contemplated whether I had overstepped a boundary, and thought about those times I’ve done something for someone else, but obviously begrudgingly. I suddenly wondered how that had made them feel. Perhaps they experienced the twangy heart sensation I was feeling right then?

The woman emerged and told me her manager had said she could slice the ham. But I sensed she felt inconvenienced, so I lowered my voice and looked directly at her. “Please, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.” Then I smiled. She gave me an almost-convincing smile in return and said, “No, I want to.”

I went away to shop, and after twenty minutes or so I came back to a surprise. The ham wasn’t a surprise; the woman’s face was. Her countenance had completely changed. Her eyes were eager to meet mine, and she said, “I have your ham!” I was expecting her to leave the wrapped meat on the counter like a white statement piece, reminding me I had interrupted her day. Instead, she personally took the ham off the counter and walked over to greet me. She held it in her hands as if she were giving me a present on our friendship anniversary. She went on to explain how the ham smelled fresh and she’d sliced it just the way I wanted. She was happy to show me her work, but even happier to give it to me. I stood there, perplexed, watching her as if I were a kid observing the color changes of a mood ring for the first time.

Then she looked at me with endearment, and I felt off-balance by the sudden emotional altitude. Her arms sprang out spontaneously, and she leaned in and hugged me! “Merry Christmas,” she whispered. Then she disappeared behind the counter, and I turned my cart toward the checkout.

My daughter, who had been silently at my side through this whole exchange, looked up at me and asked, “Why did that stranger just hug you?” I blinked a few times, trying to keep the tears from coming. “I’m not quite sure.”

I can only surmise that this lady became blessed in the doing. She didn’t want to slice my ham, did it anyway, and her heart changed somewhere in the middle of the task. Isn’t that amazing when you think about it? The unbidden opportunity to do good can be enough to change our hearts. My mind recalled that old phrase, “Be blessed in the doing,” like a tender “I told you so” from a winking father. Does the reward come when we complete the work, or right in the middle?

Sometimes we need to give phrases from Scripture time to prove themselves to be true, even years later in a grocery store with an anonymously provided, sliced ham in our hands. Life is too wild and rich not to. Be blessed in the doing, today. And don’t forget to say “Yes” when a phrase from the Bible overtakes your mind and asks to stay with you always.

Lindsey Feldpausch is a creative writer, graphic design enthusiast, social media coordinator, and sinner saved by grace who lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her worship leader/youth pastor husband and four delightful kiddos fill life with unbelievably amusing quotes and sweet snuggles. She thinks God is awesome and that the best adventure starts with saying yes to that still, small voice.

Photograph © Brooke Cagle, used with permission