I know it sounds silly, but I had a coat I just couldn’t bring myself to part with. It wasn’t expensive. It wasn’t fancy. But it carried memories: long walks with my kids, coffee runs with friends, and even a season of my life when God carried me through more than I realized at the time.
Every time I cleaned out my closet, I would stop at that coat, run my hand along the sleeve, and think, “Not this one. Not yet.”
But one morning while I was praying, I felt that unmistakable tug. Soft, steady, but persistent. Give it away.
I argued with God like He hadn’t already seen me do it a hundred times. “Lord, anything but that, I don’t know why it matters to me, but it does.”
Still, the nudge wouldn’t leave.
A local ministry was collecting winter clothing for people experiencing homelessness, so I drove over with a trunk full of things: scarves, gloves, sweaters. But that coat sat in the passenger seat, staring at me the whole ride like it knew the assignment before I did.
I sighed, grabbed it, and placed it in the donation bin. I whispered, “Okay, Lord. If You want it, it’s Yours.”
A few weeks later, the ministry posted photos online from one of their outreach days. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but then I froze.
There she was a woman wearing my coat. Smiling. Warm. Her arms wrapped around herself like she was holding on to comfort for the first time in a long while.
Something in me broke open. Not grief. Not regret. Relief. A deep knowing that obedience had done something beautiful. Not just for her, but for me.
In that moment, I realized I hadn’t been clinging to a coat. I’d been clinging to an old season of my life, one God was gently asking me to release.
Now, whenever I feel that same quiet tug–whether it’s to give, to serve, or to reach out–I don’t hesitate as much. I remember her smile. I remember that God sees needs I don’t.
Sometimes the miracle isn’t what you receive. Sometimes it’s what you’re finally willing to let go of.
No Comments