I bought an inordinate amount of pasta sauce this week. To be fair, not all of it was for me… but I walked out of two different grocery stores with about seven jars of pasta sauce in the span of three days.

The first time, I used the self checkout very specifically because I was running late and wanted to avoid human interaction. A store clerk lurked by my kiosk, and I gave him a bit of a side eye as he crept closer and closer. (I wish I could say I was using dramatic license in this description but his posture was rather lurk-y.)

As I set down the third jar of sauce the clerk swooped in (again, truly the most accurate verb choice) and double-bagged my purchase. I smiled and thanked him, and he said, “I would have hated to see you rush out only for the jars to shatter on your way.”

On pasta sauce run number two for the week, I had a rotisserie chicken in hand and was very set on delivering it before it got cold. It took everything in me not to tap my foot as the clerk took each individual jar of sauce and wrapped it separately so they didn’t clang together in one bag. When I thanked her for her care she said, “I was put here for a reason, and I’m happy to help.”

Now setting aside any opinions you may have about my tomato sauce consumption rates or the inefficiency of my shopping habits or my generally impatient tendencies… There’s something here to give us pause.

Hudson Taylor, a 19th century missionary to China said, “It is always helpful to us to fix our attention on the God-ward aspect of Christian work; to realize that the work of God does not mean so much man’s work for God, as God’s own work through man.”

The first takeaway here is a reminder of how pertinent your vocation really is. Whether you bag groceries, DoorDash, teach middle school, or are a CFO, your work matters. It’s how God gets stuff done. You are quite literally his hands and feet as he serves his people. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever forget that it applies to the people around you. Don’t think I didn’t feel a pang of guilt as the very man I tried to avoid went out of his way to help me.

Who are you called to help? To get full use of the metaphor, who’s groceries are you bagging? Who do you get to love and serve in your work? Go the extra mile for that person. Love them even when they’re busy and impatient. Help them even when they’re rushed and inconsiderate.

If the first takeaway sounds a bit like the law (go therefore and do)…

The second takeaway is pure gospel.

If it’s true, that the work of God is God’s own work through man, then it stands to reason that God was intentional with me through those interactions. God loves me so much that he put people in my path to make sure the pasta sauce didn’t break. God loves me so much he provides for me in unfathomable ways. It’s exciting! It’s beautiful! He makes sure I have what I need and then some. He is involved in our day-to-day.

If you think that sounds too touchy-feely or are tempted to find the theological holes in the argument, check out John 2, when Jesus performs his first miracle at the wedding at Cana. He turns water into wine, preserving the dignity of the bride and groom and their family, and allowing the party to go on.

And that wasn’t just a one-time thing, limited to Jesus’ time on earth.

Google the story of George Muller who ran a 19th century orphanage. When the orphanage was out of food, he prayed for breakfast and the milkman and the local baker literally showed up on his doorstep. Look up the story of Brother Andrew, a missionary behind the Iron Curtain who prayed for a cake to serve at a Bible study only to find out his mother shipped one to him days before.

God’s love is so mind-blowingly vast, so unfathomably deep, so on the nose and detail oriented it’s almost frightening. But he provides through the hands of his people. If you rush through life and avoid eye contact, you might never notice it. But it will be there all the same. God’s providence is not dependent on your noticing it. But your own spiritual health and love for your neighbor might be.

This one goes out to the grocery store clerks that I almost didn’t see. Thank you for being God’s hands and feet.