Yesterday evening, I headed over to my neighborhood Chipotle to grab dinner before a meeting at church. The guy behind me, as I did, had ordered a bowl, to go. The cashier looked up. "Are these together?" He asked. "Nah," I said, "Lost my job today, so I'm not feeling very generous." It was true, but I didn't mean anything by it.
Before I knew what happened, the guy behind me had paid for my dinner! I was so floored, I couldn't even formulate a response, save for getting teary-eyed and thanking him profusely.
I got into my car, still dazed. I felt like God had [lovingly] smacked me and said, "See? You can trust me with this. I will provide for you and take care of you in ways you can't even imagine." That guy was an angel. A bespectacled, Asian angel who likes chicken burrito bowls.