The Toy Story
By: Randall Mooney
May 7, 2009
I built a restaurant a few years ago in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. One morning while eating breakfast at a local Waffle House, I felt a very strong impression in my spirit that the waitress serving me was in desperate need of a word of encouragement. She smiled and gave me the customary, “Welcome to Waffle House,” greeting when I came through the door. As I took my seat at the counter, she wasted no time offering me a cup of coffee. She was polite, diligent, and professional in every way, but I immediately felt a deep sadness in her spirit that was effectively being hidden by the smile on her face.
It was the usual morning rush hour, and the place was packed-out with people hoping to eat breakfast and still get to work on time. I watched her as I ate my food and listened to the Spirit revealing to me her hard and painful past in New Orleans. I strongly suspected she had come here for a fresh start and to break away from the life she had lived in the past. Every time she re-filled my coffee I wanted to give her the word I had in my heart for her, and every time I started to take the plunge she would be called away to her other duties.
When I wrapped up my meal, I decided to write the words to her on the back of my ticket. I only needed to convince her to take my money from the counter instead of paying at the register. I also didn’t want to make a scene or call any attention to myself. In other words, I was hoping for a fast getaway. On the back of the ticket I wrote these words to Toy, the name on her name-tag. “Dear Toy, Jesus loves you more than you will ever imagine!” Then I turned the ticket over, placed my payment with tip on top of it, and made a dash for the door—not looking back.
Well, I was in the middle of the parking lot, half the way to my truck, when Toy came running out of the Waffle House yelling for me to wait. When I turned around, this tall forty-something black woman ran up to me with everyone in the restaurant staring through the glass, and threw her arms around me giving me a huge hug. With tears streaming down her face destroying her make-up, she cried and said, “Mister, I know God sent you here this morning. Today, more than ever, I needed to hear these words. Thank you so very much!”
Although I was really glad God had touched Toy, I was very uncomfortable with this scene in the parking lot and with the show everyone in the store was getting. I thanked her for the hug, and I told her I was glad she got what she needed, and I politely continued toward my truck. She waved goodbye to me and wiped her face on her apron, then held her head high and marched back into the restaurant to finish her shift. I have never seen her again. I don’t know what she told the people in the store, but I do know that God moved, and Toy and I had church in the parking lot of the Waffle House in Baton Rouge.
Very often it only takes obedience and a few words at the right time and in the right place to change a life forever. I guarantee you, neither Toy nor I will ever forget that morning in the parking lot. At least I know her name. I never gave her mine. But the name that does need to be known is Jesus, and that morning he got to have his way. It doesn’t always take a steeple, a pew, and a pulpit to have church. Every day we encounter hurting people hiding behind big smiles. Many of them need hope and are hoping God will give them the slightest touch to get through their struggle. Many of us are hurting and think it is impossible for God to use us to touch someone else with comfort and encouragement. The truth of the matter is that it is God who does the comforting and encouraging, but it is up to us to make contact. Let me encourage you to be sensitive to God’s Spirit and to the needs of those around you, and touch someone today.
