Have you ever had a rough week when suddenly, encouragement arrives from an unexpected source?

That happened to me this week. I was slogging away on my book, feeling defeated, depressed and down (to put it mildly), when I received an e-mail from a person I’ve met once, briefly. When we met five months ago, this woman and I had one of those, “Hi, nice to meet you; see you later” chats.

In her e-mail, she indicated that she had been speaking at a retreat when suddenly, my image popped into her head and she felt the urge to pray for me. Specifically to pray that I’d be “flooded with peace, joy, and assurance.”

She, too, was surprised because we barely know each other. But she decided to pray for me, and to let me know how she was praying. Words can’t convey how deeply I was touched to know that she was praying for exactly the encouragement I needed most.

Today, I had the opportunity to “pay it forward.” My eighth grade son, who’s a cross country runner, left his uniform jersey home after last night’s meet, forgetting that he had team pictures today. When I discovered the crumpled up jersey on the floor (where else?), I washed it and dropped it by his school.

Then I decided to take my daily workout by rollerblading on the paved trail that runs parallel to his school. I strapped on my skates and zipped off, only to pull a muscle in my calf less than a minute later.

I carefully skated back to my car, stretched, and attempted to walk it off. No luck. So I gave up on today’s workout and decided I needed a latte to fortify me for my afternoon’s work.

I limped into the local coffee shop, just behind another woman. “Drat!” I thought. She beat me to the front of the line and now I’m gonna have to wait five minutes for my latte (the Java Jolt is a local mom & pop joint, with great prices but much slower service than the Starbucks down the street).

The woman took forever to decide what size drink to order and whether to get whole milk, 2 percent, or nonfat. I waited fairly patiently, trying not to put weight on my right leg. As we stood there, waiting (again) for the barista (a trainee) to make her drink, the woman announced, “I’m celebrating today. I just got fired from my job.”

She explained that she has mixed feelings about her firing – her boss is a micro manager, always breathing over her shoulder. But she likes her career field and doesn’t want to change. Now she’s jobless and about to savor the last latte she’ll be able to afford until she lands a new job.

Side note: I live in Latté Land, otherwise known as Seattle, where the inability to imbibe of one’s daily coffee drink is truly a cause for mourning.

Anyway, I took pity on this jobless, latte-less woman and told her I’d buy her drink. Her mouth dropped open. “Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure. When you get a new job, you can buy a latte for someone who needs encouragement.”

We introduced ourselves and the woman walked back to her car, thoughtfully sipping her iced latte. I intend to pray that she’ll be flooded with peace, joy, and assurance.

The scenario got me to thinking: How can we “pay it forward” to those who are adopting?

Check out the next post for my response.