Braving Mountains
I was leaving Panera Bread when I saw her. She was sitting by a stop sign with a baby stroller and a basket on wheels. It seemed as if everything she owned was stashed right there in that basket. I didn't expect she would teach me about bravery.
We live near the city of Hagerstown, Maryland. It is completely normal to see hitch hikers, homeless, and sign holders. I didn't know it would be so easy to become calloused toward them. This lady was not holding a sign, but I felt a fierce compassion for her. I couldn't shake the thought that I needed to do something for her.
I wished I had just gone grocery shopping so I could offer her food. I didn't want to hand her cash, but I decided I should buy her supper. I pulled into the closest drive through and ordered.
It was one of those moments when I knew, without a doubt, that I was doing the right thing.
I scrawled a note on the bag of food and drove back to where I had seen her. But she wasn't there. As I made a quick circle around the parking lot, I prayed that God would help me find her since I had ordered the food for her. I soon saw her walking down the sidewalk and pulled off close to her. Rolling down my window, I told her I had bought her supper. She simply said "No thank you," and kept on walking.
I wanted to cry. Why had I felt so compelled to help her if she didn't even want help? I encounter people like her nearly every time I go shopping. Normally, I don't experience such an overwhelming prompt from God to DO SOMETHING. (That is probably to my shame.) But this time I had felt a prompt and I had acted on it. And when she refused my help, I began to wonder if God knew what he was doing. Couldn't he have led me to someone who really wanted help? Why her?
It was several days later, in my own kitchen, when I saw the truth. I am that lady.
There are times I need help. I am offered help. And I say "No thank you." I keep walking. Keep struggling on my own. And why??
Is it pride? Maybe. But I think it was a whole lot more than that. Sometimes I just desperately need to know that I can do that hard thing. No one can climb my mountain for me. My "village" can offer support, but in the end, I'm the one who needs to struggle up the steepest trails. And climbing one mountain gives me the strength and resilience I need for the next one.
I now have a deep respect for that lady on the sidewalk. She was doing her hard thing. She was climbing her mountain, one painful step at a time. Because it was the bravest thing she knew to do.
We live near the city of Hagerstown, Maryland. It is completely normal to see hitch hikers, homeless, and sign holders. I didn't know it would be so easy to become calloused toward them. This lady was not holding a sign, but I felt a fierce compassion for her. I couldn't shake the thought that I needed to do something for her.
I wished I had just gone grocery shopping so I could offer her food. I didn't want to hand her cash, but I decided I should buy her supper. I pulled into the closest drive through and ordered.
It was one of those moments when I knew, without a doubt, that I was doing the right thing.
I scrawled a note on the bag of food and drove back to where I had seen her. But she wasn't there. As I made a quick circle around the parking lot, I prayed that God would help me find her since I had ordered the food for her. I soon saw her walking down the sidewalk and pulled off close to her. Rolling down my window, I told her I had bought her supper. She simply said "No thank you," and kept on walking.
I wanted to cry. Why had I felt so compelled to help her if she didn't even want help? I encounter people like her nearly every time I go shopping. Normally, I don't experience such an overwhelming prompt from God to DO SOMETHING. (That is probably to my shame.) But this time I had felt a prompt and I had acted on it. And when she refused my help, I began to wonder if God knew what he was doing. Couldn't he have led me to someone who really wanted help? Why her?
It was several days later, in my own kitchen, when I saw the truth. I am that lady.
There are times I need help. I am offered help. And I say "No thank you." I keep walking. Keep struggling on my own. And why??
Is it pride? Maybe. But I think it was a whole lot more than that. Sometimes I just desperately need to know that I can do that hard thing. No one can climb my mountain for me. My "village" can offer support, but in the end, I'm the one who needs to struggle up the steepest trails. And climbing one mountain gives me the strength and resilience I need for the next one.
I now have a deep respect for that lady on the sidewalk. She was doing her hard thing. She was climbing her mountain, one painful step at a time. Because it was the bravest thing she knew to do.
Not so long ago I had a similar experience and wondered to why I felt such a prompting if the end result was not gratefulness from the receiver. But then I felt like I had missed the point. The incident to me was really about my obedience. How the gift was received wasn't my responsibility.
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