If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. But it’s worth saying again. The neighbors that I had at my soon-to-be-sold house are absolutely God sent. I wrote in an earlier post about Brian and Karen. They’ve been there for me so many nights when I felt like I simply might not be able to make it. And all the while, they have been enduring their own trials. I pray that God will bless them richly, as I know they will pour out His blessings onto others. But tonight I don’t wish to write any more about Brian and Karen. This evening, after mowing the grass at the house, I went to see Dane.

I remember the first day I met Dane. I was working in the yard when he strolled over to introduce himself. After a brief introduction, he started a convesation with, “So…what church ya go to?” Not many folks I know are brave enough to throw that out there at the start of a relationship. But that’s Dane. As a retired farmer, I quickly discovered that I had a lot in common with my new neighbor. Over the course of the three years that I lived next door to him, we talked periodically about vegetables, drainage, tractors, crops and trees. We shared produce from our respective gardens and Dane often shared advice. And though I didn’t see him nearly as often as I saw Brian and Karen, it was almost like having a grandfather next door.

I had not spoken to Dane since the the weekend my family’s trial began. He and his wife were heading to Florida for the winter and he said goodbye to me as I was taking care of the yard. Not knowing the outcome of my predicament, I didn’t feel the need to inform him about my situation. But now that my house is officially in contract, I felt I owed him an explanation. And so we talked. And I honestly think that, had I not needed to leave, we might still be talking.

As you may have noticed based on my first conversation with him, Dane does not mince words. After a brief conversation about my current circumstances, he cut to the chase. “Let’s pray,” he said. And that he did, right there in his entry way. We spent the next hour talking about farming, Florida and about the little town in which we live. And for the first time today, I began to smile. Like Brian and Karen, Dane cares. You can see it in his eyes. You can hear it in his voice. Before I left, he reminded me that his strawberry patch was still fair game for me and my children. And he made sure he had my phone number.

Once again, I am amazed at the people that God has placed into my life.

Jesus, thank you for Dane. Please continue to give me opportunities to speak with him. Keep me open to his words of wisdom. And grant he and his wife many more years in this little town. Thank you.

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