[After attending a funeral] as my wife Lynne and I approached our car, I spotted a frail, elderly woman pulling into the nearby apartment complex. She parked her car and began to slowly and laboriously pull grocery bags out of her trunk. "How about helping that woman with her groceries?" the Holy Spirit seemed to prompt.

I initially brushed past the whisper because Lynne was with me and we were ready to go. But I had just made that offer to God, "If there is something you would like me to do ..."

I knew I had to comply. "Lynne," I said, "I've got this little pact going with God, and I need to go help that woman with her groceries for a minute." I approached the elderly woman. "Can I give you a hand with your groceries?" I asked. "Oh, yes! Thank you!" she said, relieved.

The driveway leading back to her apartment ... was roped off, meaning residents had to walk a few hundred yards just to get from their cars to their homes. I knew that this small act of kindness would honor God and help meet a real need; what I didn't know was that those grocery sacks boasted thirty pounds of fresh peaches each. Pretending the added weight didn't affect me a bit, I said, "All set here. You lead the way." 

She began winding through backyards that had become swamps due to recent rains. [It turns out the] woman was extremely arthritic [and] had some sort of emphysema that forced us to take a breather every forty-five seconds or so. It took us a full thirty minutes to make our way to her apartment, and by the time we arrived, we were tired. I had learned more about this dear woman's life than I could ever have hoped to know.

We entered her modest home, and ... I set the sacks on the counter before turning to shake her hand and then let myself out through the front door. The woman left her bony, wrinkled hand in mine long after the handshake was done. "I will believe to my dying day that God sent you to help me just now," she said.

The whole deal felt so inglorious--the wet feet, the longer-than-expected trek, the lack of any earth-shattering results--and yet as I walked away from the apartment complex, something in my spirit felt right. God had whispered a simple instruction my way, and this time I had actually slowed down enough to listen. There is no greater feeling in the world than to hear--and heed--God's voice ....

I have come to believe over time that it is the little acts of obedience that invite God's power to fully flow in our lives. When you and I prove ourselves faithful with the small whispers, he entrusts us with bigger ones.*