I didn’t write Peace in the Storm last week, and I want to tell you why. It wasn’t because the storm passed. Nor because the message no longer mattered. But because sometimes peace looks less like stillness and more like obedience that costs you sleep.
Christmas morning found my family and I tired in a way that tea alone cannot fix.
For over twenty years now, Dexter and I have prayed the same simple prayer every Christmas season, “Lord, show us a family in need. Let us be a blessing.” It has never been complicated. We don’t ask for the means. We ask for the opportunity. And every year, God has answered.
This year, the answer came heavier than expected. And within a span of 24 hours, (on Christmas Eve) families began contacting our small church (that my husband pastor’s) one after another. Parents asking for toys, shoes and clothing. Some even asked for diapers and wipes. Many of them were large families, newly unemployed and facing their very last Christmas with stability intact.
So, we listened, Dexter counted as I wrote out the list of names and needs, and quietly we realized something terrifying. We had nothing to give.
That morning, I prayed honestly. I told the Lord exactly what we needed and exactly what we didn’t have. I didn’t embellish it. I didn’t dress it up in spiritual language. I simply placed the need before Him, and He moved!
By nine o’clock that same morning, an entire truckload of toys, shoes, and clothing arrived at our house, it was donated excess from a local retail store. So much that I didn’t even have space to store it all inside my small building. I stood there, overwhelmed, already crying.
Then the provision kept coming. The donations began pouring in along with over a thousand dollars by the time the day was done. Enough to meet needs we hadn’t anticipated yet. Enough to purchase items that were still missing. Even enough to cover newborn diapers and wipes. It was all enough to remind me yet again that God does not provide halfway.
Dexter and I immediately began sorting everything in my little shop. Toys into piles. Clothes by size. Shoes by number. Gift bags lining the floor. But even then, we realized something else. And that was that many of these families didn’t have transportation. Some had no car at all. Others had one that no longer ran. So by late afternoon, once everything was finally bagged and loaded into what I affectionately call my new Santa Fe, “Santa’s Sleigh,” we started driving. House to house. County to county. Porch to porch. Eight hours in all and well past midnight, still delivering precious gifts to little children.
One stop in particular will stay with me forever. A large family living in the projects. The door opened cautiously. And from behind it, a small four-year-old girl peeked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mommy… is that my dolly?”
I melted right there. Not because of the doll—but because of what that moment represented. A child who still hoped for a gift. A mother who still wanted to give it. And a God who had already gone before us before us both, to meet that precious little girl’s desire.
We had originally started out with a list of 29 families. But when we finally finished delivering to what turned out to be more than 30 families across three counties, we still had five large bags of toys left. Which according to my list which was precise—that should not have been. Then something happened, almost immediately, the director of the local Boys and Girls Club for our area reached out. When she heard what had happened, she asked if we had anything remaining. Of course we did. Because God had already accounted for that, too.
As I sat with my tea afterward (well past Christmas morning) I couldn’t shake the familiarity of it all. This wasn’t chaos. This was Scripture lived out in real time.
Five loaves.
Two fish.
And a willingness to hand them over.
Jesus didn’t ask His disciples to solve the hunger problem. He asked them to bring what they had. And that’s what this was for me. A reminder that obedience comes first. Provision follows.
This is why the Peace in the Storm series paused last week. Not because peace disappeared—but because peace showed up wearing work boots, carrying bags of toys, and knocking on doors long after bedtime.
If you’re weary this season, quietly carrying more than anyone sees, may this testimony remind you of something simple and sacred:
God still multiplies what is offered in faith.
He still shows up on time.
And sometimes, He arrives with a truck.
May God Richly Bless you as much as He has done me this Christmas Season and into the New Year!
🫖 Mandy ☕️
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Country Girl Gone City 
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