You'd think that with so much poverty and suffering around, it'd be easy to maintain a heart of compassion and concern for the people I see every day. But no. Being a missionary doesn't automatically make you Super Christian Guy or anything. I get lazy and indifferent just like most people do. And like most people, I need the occasional slap upside the head from God.
Last night I was hanging out with a buddy of mine. On the way home we stopped to grab something to eat. My friend asked me if I was going to eat anything (there’s not a lot I can eat right now and I think he felt bad, thinking that I was buying supper just for him). I told him I was going to eat something too and so I ordered a hamburger and fries. As we were waiting for our food, his wife called and something had come up. So we got the food to go, and I took him home.
I was a bit relieved actually ‘cause I knew the burger probably wouldn’t do well in my stomach. But now I had a bag of takeout that I didn’t know what to do with. I figured I could just give it to one of the guys at the house, but then I thought, “Oh, I should give it to a street kid somewhere.” That’s was a nice thought, eh? The only problem was that my route home didn’t go past any of the areas where the street kids tend to hang out. By that time it was already 10:30 at night and most of the kids had hunkered down for the night. I knew I’d have to drive out of my way to find anyone.
A battle raged in my head as I drove...
“If you see a street kid, then fine. You can give him the food. Otherwise David will eat it. He’s always hungry.”
“But it’ll make some kid happy to get some food. I should go find someone.”
“It’s late and you have to be up early tomorrow. It’s not a big deal!”
“But it seems like the right thing to do. Besides...David’s getting fat.”
This went on for most of the ride home, but at the last minute I made a decision and I turned and headed in closer to the centre of town. I wasn’t necessarily happy with my decision (I really was feeling pretty wasted)...but whatever.
The first intersection didn’t have any street kids or window washers and I thought, “See...waste of time.” But then as I pulled up to the next set of lights, I caught a glimpse between the cars of somebody trying to do summersaults. I moment later a gorgeous little girl of about five or six came through the line of cars asking for a coin. I grabbed my bag of food and held it out the window. She saw it and came running over.
“This is supper for you.”
Just then I noticed a young boy of about eight or nine, who I assumed was her brother, coming towards us.
“It’s for both of us?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s for both of you.”
By now her brother realized what was happening and came running up with a smile on his face.
“Some supper for you.” I told him.
The traffic light was about to change, so they took the bag and scurried off the road, all the time telling me, “Thank you! Thank you! God bless you! God bless you!”
As I drove away I could see them going through the bag and the older brother starting to organize the food for the two of them. All I could think of was how close I came to not bothering to find them. That going ten minutes out of my way was almost too much.
May God open my eyes and grant me the strength to never be without compassion. May my heart never be hardened to the suffering of people around me. And may my own selfishness never overcome my desire to show the love of Christ to people who do not know love.
Sometimes a slap upside the head is a good thing.
Last night I was hanging out with a buddy of mine. On the way home we stopped to grab something to eat. My friend asked me if I was going to eat anything (there’s not a lot I can eat right now and I think he felt bad, thinking that I was buying supper just for him). I told him I was going to eat something too and so I ordered a hamburger and fries. As we were waiting for our food, his wife called and something had come up. So we got the food to go, and I took him home.
I was a bit relieved actually ‘cause I knew the burger probably wouldn’t do well in my stomach. But now I had a bag of takeout that I didn’t know what to do with. I figured I could just give it to one of the guys at the house, but then I thought, “Oh, I should give it to a street kid somewhere.” That’s was a nice thought, eh? The only problem was that my route home didn’t go past any of the areas where the street kids tend to hang out. By that time it was already 10:30 at night and most of the kids had hunkered down for the night. I knew I’d have to drive out of my way to find anyone.
A battle raged in my head as I drove...
“If you see a street kid, then fine. You can give him the food. Otherwise David will eat it. He’s always hungry.”
“But it’ll make some kid happy to get some food. I should go find someone.”
“It’s late and you have to be up early tomorrow. It’s not a big deal!”
“But it seems like the right thing to do. Besides...David’s getting fat.”
This went on for most of the ride home, but at the last minute I made a decision and I turned and headed in closer to the centre of town. I wasn’t necessarily happy with my decision (I really was feeling pretty wasted)...but whatever.
The first intersection didn’t have any street kids or window washers and I thought, “See...waste of time.” But then as I pulled up to the next set of lights, I caught a glimpse between the cars of somebody trying to do summersaults. I moment later a gorgeous little girl of about five or six came through the line of cars asking for a coin. I grabbed my bag of food and held it out the window. She saw it and came running over.
“This is supper for you.”
Just then I noticed a young boy of about eight or nine, who I assumed was her brother, coming towards us.
“It’s for both of us?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s for both of you.”
By now her brother realized what was happening and came running up with a smile on his face.
“Some supper for you.” I told him.
The traffic light was about to change, so they took the bag and scurried off the road, all the time telling me, “Thank you! Thank you! God bless you! God bless you!”
As I drove away I could see them going through the bag and the older brother starting to organize the food for the two of them. All I could think of was how close I came to not bothering to find them. That going ten minutes out of my way was almost too much.
May God open my eyes and grant me the strength to never be without compassion. May my heart never be hardened to the suffering of people around me. And may my own selfishness never overcome my desire to show the love of Christ to people who do not know love.
Sometimes a slap upside the head is a good thing.
3 comments:
Love the story, it touched my heart this morning. We have been talking about scattering our seeds and we never know when it can change a life.
LYnelle
Ken- these types of stories never fail to wash over me like a 10 foot tidal wave of grief. At 6 and almost 3 those could be my boys out there and that does terrible things to my heart. I thank God every day that you are there. A beacon of light representing us. It's ok that you need a slap in the head once in a while. Don't we all? Your stories should be in every daily newspaper and then maybe people would skip one of their 2 daily Starbucks and donate some money so small children do not have to beg on the street or ever, ever go hungry.
Brilliant. Much like that old man that came to my door... a serious slap upside the head. You surely made those kids' night. :)
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