I was so touched by this post. I owned and operated a bar and grill for over 22 years. I renewed my relationship with Christ about six years after I purchased it. I was certain that God didn't want me in the business and tried to buy a bed and breakfast. It wasn't in God's plan. He used me and my husband at Johnny's Bar & Grill in Hollister, California, in amazing ways. It gave me my memoir, Born Again in a Biker Bar. I'm thrilled to be out of the business in God's timing. I was approached by people with cancer who asked me to pray for them, folks struggling in their marriages and their lives in general. They asked for my husband's phone number after he got sober because they knew they needed to quit drinking. When you wrote that the bartender pulled up a stool and said what she did, I started to cry. I hope I affected many people that way. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story. God bless you for what you do and who you are. 🙏❤️
Wow, thank you so much for sharing. I'm so thankful for your willingness to step into that space and be the hands and feet of Jesus! Sounds like you were exactly where you needed to be. God bless! :)
This brought tears to my eyes, Devon. Beautifully written and powerful. The words of the bartender and her caring heart ministered to me, too. Thank you, dear Devon. Much love and respect for you.
This really touched me. My husband and I ran a community cafe
People would come in and unburden themselves. Ask for prayer. Share their joys and their grief. We helped at many funerals. As a nurse and then midwife I was present at many deaths over the years. Each time it was a privilege. I was with my dad my mum and my sisters deaths. Painful for me release for them. I still carry that heart ache tho it diminishes with the passing of the years. What you do each day is amazing, tragic and beautiful. May you always find places to unburden your heart. Our Jesus will continue to lead you to the right place at the right time. God bless you and thanks for sharing your heart ❤️
Wow, Donna thank you so much for this. I'm also incredibly sorry for your losses. I think there is a shared language through grief that has the power to tether us to our own mortality and humanity. It is a unity of sorrow, love, and hope that we can share with one another. Blessings to you too in your life and ministry.
Another beautiful, soul-touching piece. This was so good. It's so awesome how God often works through the most unsuspecting people to minister to us, in the most unsuspecting places. God bless that bartender and God bless you, bro.
What a beautiful grace from God in ministering to you through that bartender (and also in allowing her the opportunity to minister so profoundly to someone)! In the aftermath of a postpartum stroke, I have been blessed by the words and actions of taxi drivers, a plumber, checkout assistants, click-and-collect staff and a trolley collector - all of whom I thank, but most of whom would have no idea of the magnitude of the blessing their words and kindness bring to a complex situation.
I was reflecting today on the Australian wisdom that everyone I meet is someone’s daughter/son, brother/sister, parent/partner, etc, and so we should act towards everyone in light of the fact that they are someone’s loved one…
Then I realised that some people are terribly alone - no one’s loved one - and our kindness might be the only love they are shown today. May we also, like your bartender, seek to minister to others in unexpected places. Thank you for the reminder of how powerful that can be.
I completely agree. I learned a lot about ministry of presence through that bartender. A reminder that no matter where we are placed, we can have impact; if only we open our eyes and hearts to love those around us.
You have an incredible gift with words Devon. Thanks for sharing. I love hearing stories of where God meets people in their time of need. He is always faithful.
I was so touched by this post. I owned and operated a bar and grill for over 22 years. I renewed my relationship with Christ about six years after I purchased it. I was certain that God didn't want me in the business and tried to buy a bed and breakfast. It wasn't in God's plan. He used me and my husband at Johnny's Bar & Grill in Hollister, California, in amazing ways. It gave me my memoir, Born Again in a Biker Bar. I'm thrilled to be out of the business in God's timing. I was approached by people with cancer who asked me to pray for them, folks struggling in their marriages and their lives in general. They asked for my husband's phone number after he got sober because they knew they needed to quit drinking. When you wrote that the bartender pulled up a stool and said what she did, I started to cry. I hope I affected many people that way. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story. God bless you for what you do and who you are. 🙏❤️
Wow, thank you so much for sharing. I'm so thankful for your willingness to step into that space and be the hands and feet of Jesus! Sounds like you were exactly where you needed to be. God bless! :)
This brought tears to my eyes, Devon. Beautifully written and powerful. The words of the bartender and her caring heart ministered to me, too. Thank you, dear Devon. Much love and respect for you.
Thank you so much. God bless you, Susan, each and every day. Hope this summer is treating you well!
This really touched me. My husband and I ran a community cafe
People would come in and unburden themselves. Ask for prayer. Share their joys and their grief. We helped at many funerals. As a nurse and then midwife I was present at many deaths over the years. Each time it was a privilege. I was with my dad my mum and my sisters deaths. Painful for me release for them. I still carry that heart ache tho it diminishes with the passing of the years. What you do each day is amazing, tragic and beautiful. May you always find places to unburden your heart. Our Jesus will continue to lead you to the right place at the right time. God bless you and thanks for sharing your heart ❤️
Wow, Donna thank you so much for this. I'm also incredibly sorry for your losses. I think there is a shared language through grief that has the power to tether us to our own mortality and humanity. It is a unity of sorrow, love, and hope that we can share with one another. Blessings to you too in your life and ministry.
Another beautiful, soul-touching piece. This was so good. It's so awesome how God often works through the most unsuspecting people to minister to us, in the most unsuspecting places. God bless that bartender and God bless you, bro.
Thank you, my friend. 😊
This made me tear up... glad you had that space. Hang in there Devon. <3
You too, Sierra! Always thankful for you.
What a beautiful grace from God in ministering to you through that bartender (and also in allowing her the opportunity to minister so profoundly to someone)! In the aftermath of a postpartum stroke, I have been blessed by the words and actions of taxi drivers, a plumber, checkout assistants, click-and-collect staff and a trolley collector - all of whom I thank, but most of whom would have no idea of the magnitude of the blessing their words and kindness bring to a complex situation.
I was reflecting today on the Australian wisdom that everyone I meet is someone’s daughter/son, brother/sister, parent/partner, etc, and so we should act towards everyone in light of the fact that they are someone’s loved one…
Then I realised that some people are terribly alone - no one’s loved one - and our kindness might be the only love they are shown today. May we also, like your bartender, seek to minister to others in unexpected places. Thank you for the reminder of how powerful that can be.
Ali,
I completely agree. I learned a lot about ministry of presence through that bartender. A reminder that no matter where we are placed, we can have impact; if only we open our eyes and hearts to love those around us.
You have an incredible gift with words Devon. Thanks for sharing. I love hearing stories of where God meets people in their time of need. He is always faithful.
He is always faithful. Love that. Blessings to you, Brian.