It’s Friday. Finally Friday. TGIF. I’ve been working for the weekend. Soon it will be Saturday night, and I ain’t got nobody. Lynn’s in Tucson visiting her mom. I do have money, though. Spending some of it at Discount Tire on TPMS for Lynn’s SUV. No, it ain’t jewelry, nor is it romantic. But it does show love. I think. At least the red light on the dash will no longer be visible.

Summer hours at work give us a 1/2 day off on Friday. I made a list at 8:00 am of all the things I need to do today. So far I have 12 of 26 marked off. One of the tasks was to visit Costco to check out cheap eyeglasses. I figured I would have a healthy lunch at the cafe — $1.50 for a large hot dog and a Mountain Dew. With Lynn being gone all week, my food choices are certainly limitless.

At Costco, you have to order at a kiosk. I guess it is more efficient, but it is soul-less. While paying for the meal, I noted an older gentleman there. He was wearing a crisply ironed plaid shirt, and a stunning Western string tie. The medallion was a deep ivory, with a gold inset symbol, and a gold filigree setting. The strings were tan, with a woven pattern. No, I wasn’t lusting after it. Just admiring it!

The hot dogs (wait, I forgot to say I ordered TWO — I was hungry!) came after a few minutes with the typical yell “Order 754!” Except there was only one. She went back to get the second hot dog. I slathered one with mustard, one with ketchup, and dolloped the sweet relish on both. But, with the Friday crowd, there was no place to sit. I decided to use a baby high chair as a table, set my iPhone on the garbage can lid, and stood next to the men’s room door to enjoy the repast.

“Sir, if you’d like to sit down, there’s room here…” I looked over, and saw the older gentleman sitting alone at a table for four. He had a big pizza box, with one slice out on a styrofoam plate. I gladly sat down, and we said howdy.

“What brings you to Costco?” I asked. “I need a pail of tomatoes,” he replied. “That’s a lot of tomatoes!” “I like to eat a lot of salads.” I shared that my healthy lunch was a reward for jogging the Corporate 5K race the previous evening, and that I was shopping for eyeglasses.

“I haven’t been doing a lot of cooking since my wife of 62 years passed away, four months ago…”

I knew then why we were there. Why he was at Costco, the same time as me. We were there, for each other.

I asked his permission to offer a prayer, that moment. He agreed. I prayed for his sorrow, that his memories of 62 years together would continue to brighten his days, that God’s love would be evident to him in the love of family and friends, and that God would strengthen him in the days to come. Thanking Him for our food, I opened my eyes at “Amen.” He was crying, just for a moment.

We continued chatting over bites of lunch. It’s always amazing to me how these encounters go. I asked how he met his wife.

“We met at church. I was leading the singing. She came with a family, visiting the church. I saw her from the front, and knew I had to meet her.”

You can’t help but be amazed at God’s Providence in our lives.

“We married after I had a couple of years of college. I was 20, she was 18.” “She was my helpmeet.” I replied that she reminded me of the verse Genesis 2:18, where God’s Word tells us that it is not good for man to be alone, with a smile. He nodded in agreement. They married in 1960, after two years of dating.

He related a bit of his life story. I just wanted him to share, to unpack emotions, if any. To memorialize his wife, however he needed. Four months is not a lot of time to grieve, and he has a long journey before healing is complete. The two of them served God in a number of churches, in a number of ministries, in Christian schools, as a liaison to the Virginia legislature, and all over the US. He told me of his original plan, to be a church pastor, but that God showed him a different calling. I affirmed that we plan, but God directs our steps, mentioning how the Apostle Paul wanted to visit one church plant, but God prevented the trip with a Spiritual prompting (Acts 16:5-6). It was clear that my lunch friend was always listening to God’s voice.

He introduced himself, in a way, as he shared his life story. He gave his first name, but in a few minutes of more conversation, I learned he was Dr. Jack Knapp. His wife, the love of his life, was named Judy. Servants. Going where God directed. Preaching at churches wherever requested. And, still serving, as best he can. I could tell being without his wife that serving was harder. He related that Judy was a long-time sufferer of heart disease, with several operations resulting in a total of seven arterial stints. In the end, he stated that she was stricken by a reaction to an antibiotic, making her bedridden for the last two years of her life. Jack cared for her, faithfully, until the end. The funeral was in their home, and only fifteen attended. Family. Important people. Kids, grandkids, and great grandkids.

Judy was a person filled with humor. In planning for their final resting place, a double above-ground columbarium, Jack highlighted her humor as he told me of the plaque at their site. Introduced as Jack and Judy in their ministries — well, people often thought of Jack and Jill. He quoted her humorous inscription on the plaque as:

Here are Jack and Judy

Not Jack and Jill

We went to up heaven

They went down the hill

Today, he bought a a big pizza. $10. He ate two slices, cutting each piece with knife and fork, and plans to freeze the rest. When the grandkids come over, he dresses up the pizza and shares it with them. He can’t see a cheaper way to entertain, and really likes the $10 Costco pizza. I can imagine how he looks forward to their visit. I hope they visit often.

It’s hard to believe that I had lunch with such a man…a man that surrendered everything to ministry. 62 years of marriage. 62 years of serving. Faithful to one wife. Faithful to one calling, to be a minister to the church, the bride of Christ, and to share the gospel with anyone, at any time. It was a privilege to meet Jack, and to share a simple meal. May Dr. Knapp’s story inspire me to be faithful to my calling.

You go nowhere by accident.