Wrangler Dani

We drove five hours round-trip and packed a 16-foot trailer full of garage sale items from my parent’s house the day before the sale. We didn’t make signs or a Craigslist ad until the night before. We didn’t unload any of the stuff until the morning of the sale because of stormy weather, we wondered if anyone would even show up. It was cold, wet, stormy and significantly hailed at least once.

I had prayed and told a few friends that I wanted to raise $2000, all the while “knowing” that we’d raise $1000 at the most. I figured why not pray for success, even as I felt woefully inadequate and unprepared?

I guess God doesn’t mind when we are unprepared, since last count showed us at $2,070 (!!!!) with a few more donations rolling in.

Our friends made incredible cupcakes, cookies and brownies to sell, and cheerfully encouraged garage salers to buy baked goods when they checked out. They donated mountains of clothing, stuffed animals, furniture and oddities. They merchandised, made signs and Craigslist ads, told shoppers our story and even gave us their centrally-located house for the sale. Every little donation we got mattered – from the printer we hauled from a friend in Orange County to the desk that our friend found on the side of the road to the bags of Care Bears and Hot Wheels that our Storage Wars friend had laying around from another life, to the set of dressers that my mom parted with.

Garage salers, known for being a persnickety, cheap bunch, were generous and kind. One lady gave me $75 for her $40 purchase, saying with a knowing grin, “I’m an adoptive mom, too.” We quoted 50 cents for a book and got $5 instead. A couple of cute college students gave me double what I asked for, “because earlier we probably haggled too much, it’s a fundraiser after all”. We heard “I’m adopted” stories and “good for you” encouragements, even as we sold 25 cent t-shirts and offered people the incredible cupcakes of our awesome baker friends.

I’ve been hearing a lot of pessimism lately about the world, about how the foster care system is broken, how adoption is painful, how people are lame. We hear sighs about our jobs, our finances, our seemingly endless waits and it’s tempting to join in with sighs of our own. But then God answers a simple prayer and reminds me that he cares about the small stuff. He cares about our family and our community. He cares about our daily concerns and our disappointments. Sometimes, you have to have a cold weekend of selling junk on your friends’ lawn to be reminded – he is oh-so-good. Ask and you will receive, knock and the door will open, seek and you will find.

To everyone who donated items, who helped us load and unload, who prayed, who encouraged, who bought a lamp or a picture frame, who told us a happy story, who made us laugh at stormy weather, who baked incredible goodies, who wrote massive yard sale signs, who made us hot cocoa, who covered our goods in tarps to protect from hail… we are grateful, amazed, overwhelmed and joyful. Thank you.

“In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.” Matthew 5:16