mustard seeds, mountains (not my own)

Yesterday, after returning from a long, stressful, yet good day of work, Electric Emily was waiting in my driveway behind the house, walking a red mountain bike.

"She did it again," was my initial response driving up, living as the resident recipient of her generosity many times over, including a recent fast Fuji road bike via Craigslist a few weeks ago.

In the wake of my mountain bike being mangled after falling off a car rack at 70 mph last month (no injuries), I was bike less. Now, one month later, I have two. I've paid $0 for both bikes.

"You have a mountain bike!" she said, excitedly (of course), as I look at her confused (of course).

"It's from someone anonymous," she added.

"Who?" I say, of course, over and over.

"I promised I wouldn't tell," she says, not budging. "But I've been praying for it, and here it is."

With a quick spin around the driveway, I noticed new features missing from my mountain bike (even before the accident): working breaks, working gears, light weight!

With the busyness of reentry into GR life since California, I haven't really processed this episode of grace, but I'm thankful, awestruck, dumbfounded and humbled when this stuff happens.

It'll be especially useful when Justin and Kelsey move to Grand Rapids next month. (Justin is my brother, and my sister-in-law Kelsey accepted a year-long term with Americorp downtown. We're excited about that development).

Thanks, friend, whoever and whenever you are.