Member-only story
When Grace Finds You Mid-Stride
I walked into a Walmart in Burley, Idaho a few days before Christmas. The first clerk I saw was moving at top speed. My eyes followed the line of shopping carts that stretched toward the back of the store. As fast as she could scan an item, another was handed to her. Dozens of men in leather jackets stood beside the carts like sentinels.
It looked like a scene from a movie, really almost too much to believe. A motorcycle club had raised tens of thousands of dollars to provide for children in need. With no cameras, no press release, no staged photos, they came and filled fifty carts; maybe more. The clerk scanned each item, one beep at a time.
Watching those “bikers” took me back to a man I once knew named Randy. Honestly, he had the kind of look that could have made him Danny Trejo’s stunt double. Rough. Everywhere. Tough on the outside. He rebuilt cars, rode motorcycles, and carried himself like someone you wouldn’t want to cross.
Which is why I’ll never forget the day I say across his living room from him as he wept. Tears rolled down his face as he shared a story so deeply personal that it broke through that tough exterior.
It was this beautiful, unexpected, unguarded moment of grace that caught me completely by surprise.
