A God Date

Today, God gave me chocolate strawberries.

I was heading home from a seminary class I'm taking, and ordinarily I would transfer to a different train at 42nd Street and go straight home--but then I felt like God was asking me to go walk around Times Square and pray.

So I left the subway station, sort of confused. Listening to God's voice and just going with it is not something I'm very familiar with; it's something I've been trying to work on.

I pray along 42nd Street. I wonder for a second if I'm supposed to do my typical practice of praying through the theatre district, but I can tell pretty quickly this is not where it's going. I decide the game to play is "follow the light" so I make my turns and pick directions based on whatever walk sign is on.

I am honestly not sure where this is going, but I start to feel unexpectedly anxious, so I pray for protection: for the homeless, for the tourists, for Grand Central glowing in the distance, all the while asking "is there something else?" and hearing nothing.

I eventually find myself near Rockefeller. "Follow the light" I think again, and so I wander down and watch the amazing light show on Saks 5th Ave.

I take pictures of the Rockefeller tree and sit down and wait. For what? I'm not sure. A friend from church appears out of nowhere, which is a fun surprise! But then they have to go.

I pray some more and walk to the ice rink. I see a very thin old man wearing a long trenchcoat and an orange beret happily dance-skating to "Jingle Bell Rock." He's spinning and kicking and he's so good. I take a little video of him and I'm smiling so wide--I can't help it!

And in that moment, I suddenly realize, maybe God didn't have an assignment for me. Maybe He just wanted me to pray for what I saw and enjoy my city.

So I ask "God, could you give me some hot chocolate please?" and continue to walk, not sure where I'm going. Pretty much immediately I stumble upon a Godiva and go inside.

I take a second to look around. I wonder for a moment if I should splurge on some treats, and I consider buying myself a chocolate strawberry. But I quickly conclude that it's too much, so I order an 8oz hot chocolate (the smallest size) and sit.

Maybe 15 minutes later, the store closes--but I haven't really noticed, because it's bursting with people until the very end. The manager comes up to me and tells me they're closed.

"Oh!" I said, "I'm so sorry, but I never got my hot chocolate."

They're very apologetic and immediately rush to make me one, even though they're in the middle of cleaning. Then the manager asks "You want some chocolate strawberries? We have to throw them out anyways."

I get so so so excited and say "Oh my gosh really? Thank you!"

The girl behind the bar is so kind and whips me up a 12oz hot chocolate and hands me a baggie of a dozen white-chocolate strawberries. Then she helps me find my way out of the building and I'm walking back to the subway in a happy daze.

"I wanted to take you on a date," I hear God say.

On the subway, I felt very self-conscious of how I looked, holding a big Godiva cup and a chunky Godiva bag of treats. These things feel like signs of luxury to me; the signs of luxury that usually differentiate the richer New Yorkers from me, the signs of luxury I would normally not buy myself. But tonight, everyone on the subway could see: someone had loved me very well and given me very good gifts.

I'm not 100% sure what to conclude. On the one hand, I reflect on the random anxiety I was feeling and wonder if my prayers of protection were what really counted today. On the other, it felt as if God was reminding me that following Him isn't just about doing duty, but that it's also about enjoying time with him.

Maybe it was both.

But in the end, God gave me chocolate strawberries. And I felt very, very loved.