Next level care

Recently, I heard of two separate instances when someone went out of their way to help another person. Both of these challenged me – but God had apparently not finished with me at that point and proceeded to use the well-known parable of the Good Samaritan to give me even more food for thought.

The first instance I heard about involved someone a friend found sitting outside on the steps one Sunday after a church service. He looked rather unkempt and down on his luck and, as my friend passed nearby, he asked her if she knew of somewhere he could stay for the night. She told him she didn’t but that she would ask someone who might and suggested he come with her. She soon found their community worker and said to him, ‘This gentleman needs a bed for the night. Do you know anywhere he can go?’ As it turned out, the community worker did and immediately took care of the poor man. However, what seemed to touch this man most was one key word my friend had chosen to use. ‘She called me a gentleman!’ he told their community worker, his voice filled with wonderment.

Would I have thought to use that word? Would I have even helped this man?

The second instance sounds less dire, yet things could well have escalated. One evening, our daughter received a pleading text message from our grandson at his first ever school camp. He has ADHD and was never allowed on school camps at primary school because of his behaviour. Now, in Year 7, he had finally made it to camp. But alas, his message informed his mother that he was starving as the food was terrible – could she please bring him a ‘care package’ that evening after work?! Now this demand is not as selfish as it sounds – our grandson truly has trouble tolerating foods with certain textures. Besides, his mother knew that, if he did not eat something, his behaviour could well be adversely affected. So, she did what he asked, driving over an hour to the campsite in the dark and another hour back home, in order to take him whatever healthy snack food she could lay her hands on quickly.

Would I have bothered to do that? Would I have helped our grandson?

Then I read the story of the Good Samaritan which impacted me more than it ever has on previous occasions and left me feeling even more challenged. To put it mildly, this Samaritan did a lot for the poor, half-dead traveller who had been robbed:

He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ Luke 10:34–36

Would I have offered all the next level care he offered? Would I have even seen that poor man?

Go and do likewise, Jesus told the expert in the law who asked who his neighbour really was (Luke 10:29, 37b).

I wonder if this expert did what Jesus said. I wonder if I will.

Read Full Post »

Being bold

There we were, walking past some shops while on holidays, when we saw a girl on a seat at the edge of the footpath. She was quite well-dressed and attractive, but what drew our attention to her was that she was crying loudly. She would stop for a while, then start again—it was distressing to witness.

I hesitated, unsure what to do. What could have happened to cause her so much grief? It seemed bizarre to wail and sob in such a public place—perhaps she had long-term mental and emotional issues and found it hard to stay grounded in reality. Whatever the reason, she was obviously in great need.

Yet I did not know if it was wise to approach her—and what could I offer anyway? We were strangers in the area and unfamiliar with what local help would be available to her. I hated to leave her as she was, but in the end, we decided to move on, hoping there was someone else nearby who knew her history and could assist her.

After reaching the nearby waterfront and looking around for a while, we headed back to our car along the opposite side of the road from where the distraught girl had been. As we did, I looked to see if she had moved on—but no. There she was, still wailing and still alone.

‘Perhaps I should go over and talk to her,’ I said to my husband. ‘Maybe I can offer to pray for her at least.’

He agreed, so I went to cross the road. But just as I did, I saw a salesperson come out of a nearby shop and walk towards the girl. I hesitated again, wondering if I should join them or wait until the girl was alone again. But then the saleslady sat down with the girl and stayed there for some time, trying to talk to her. Yet the girl seemed to cringe away from her, as if lost in a world of grief and pain that could not be shared.

What should I do? I did not want to be like the religious leaders in the story of the Good Samaritan who crossed over to the other side of the road and ignored the person needing help (Luke 10). But we had to keep moving, so I decided to pray for this girl right where I was. And I continued praying for her after we left. Then the story in Matthew’s Gospel came to mind where Jesus heals the centurion’s servant, even though this servant was not even present (8:5-13). Just say the word, the centurion tells Jesus, and my servant will be healed. Could Jesus do the same for this girl?

I don’t know if I should have been bolder in approaching this girl. But I do know this. God can handle it when we pray bold prayers. In fact, we are encouraged to do exactly that:

So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most. Hebrews 4:16 NLT

May God continue to heal this poor girl. And may I learn to be bolder in sharing God’s love and grace with others however I can.

Read Full Post »

Keeping our distance

It’s a strange experience, isn’t it, to try to avoid others or have them avoid us as we go about outside at the moment? Yes, those social isolation measures are important, but to me, keeping our distance definitely feels weird, however much we might smile at each other in the process.

Recently, I was walking along a nearby footpath, enjoying the beautiful weather, when I noticed a couple coming towards me. Suddenly, they veered off onto the edge of the road. At first, forgetting our distancing rules, I wondered why they were doing such a thing. For a moment, they reminded me of the priest and Levite who crossed to the opposite side of the road to avoid the person in need, in the story of the Good Samaritan! But no, they were only being considerate of me, as well as careful on their own behalf.

And in the supermarket that same week, when there was a bit of a ‘log-jam’ in one aisle, some of us back-pedalled furiously to keep those social distancing rules and waited more or less patiently, while others continued on with their shopping in blissful ignorance. One lady even tut-tutted and shook her head in disgust at everyone. For a moment, I felt I had no right to be there—that I was ‘barred’ from that aisle and should take myself off elsewhere. How good it was to reach that cheery checkout person at last and be on my way home again!

As I thought about these experiences, I began to wonder if they might be showing me something about my attitude towards God at times. How often have I cringed from meeting with God and stepped off the footpath, so to speak, in order to avoid facing up to things in my life? How often do I choose even now to reject that gentle voice in my spirit, urging me to listen and to change my ways, and want God to keep a respectable distance from me?

Many years ago, at a very busy stage of my life, I pushed God aside for a while and chose instead to focus on things I needed—and wanted—to do. But one Sunday, I heard a story from Scripture read aloud in church that contained the words ‘Give me time …’. These words, taken completely out of context, nevertheless pierced my heart, as I realised that was exactly what I had been saying to God: ‘Oh, just give me time! I’ll come back to you when I’m good and ready!’ I felt so convicted that I had been treating our most holy and loving Lord in such a proud and careless way. Each day, I had been rejecting the Lord’s outstretched hand to me, offering me a wonderful, close relationship with him again. But I wanted him to keep his distance. I wanted him to move aside. I did not want him anywhere near.

How blessed we are when we realise how foolish it is to try to keep our distance from the Lord and instead, choose to welcome him into our lives each day with open arms!

Come close to God, and God will come close to you. … Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honour. James 4:8,10 New Living Translation

Read Full Post »

Seeing Cinderella

During the school holidays in particular, I am thankful for the lovely heated pool and spa in our village. Usually, our two younger grandchildren enjoy being taken there, but one day recently, our grandson elected to play games at home with Granddad instead.

Meanwhile, his sister Maxine and I headed for the pool. Almost two hours later, as we were still bobbing around there, the cleaning lady arrived to mop out the change rooms.

‘She’s like Cinderella!’ Maxine announced after a while.

‘Pardon? … What do you mean?’

‘Well—she has to do all the work!’

Of course! Why didn’t I see that connection immediately? I laughed, then pointed out that must mean we’re the Ugly Sisters!

Later, however, I began to reflect on Maxine’s immediate response to the scene before her. She loves those old fairy tales, especially the ones featuring beautiful heroines with long, flowing hair. So far these holidays, along with the inevitable, more recent Frozen, we have watched DVDs of Snow White and Tangled (the story of Rapunzel), some more than once. We have also read different versions of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and such like together over the years. And recently, Maxine even managed to cajole her granddad and me into acting out one of these stories with her—this time, Little Red Riding Hood, including cutting that big, bad wolf open with relish, stuffing stones in him and sewing him up again with a flourish! These stories have well and truly made their way into Maxine’s imaginative little mind and continue to play out there in technicolour—for her, it’s natural to think of Cinderella immediately, when she sees a cleaning lady working hard, with no one helping!

All this caused me to reflect again on the power of story and on the fact that Jesus chose to use stories at times as he taught (see Matthew 13). I have read them often, yet how deeply have I allowed them to impact my mind and spirit? How much have they changed the way I see the world and the way I respond immediately to situations around me?

I thought back then over some of these stories Jesus told—the parable of the sower, the good Samaritan, the lost sheep, the unmerciful servant, the wedding banquet. As I see people in need, such as right now, with our bushfires and drought, have I been shaped into thinking immediately of the good Samaritan? Am I prepared to put myself out and give in a costly way—or am I more like that Pharisee who stayed at a safe distance? In my life, am I still acting like that unmerciful servant who was happy to receive the king’s forgiveness, yet did not extend that same forgiveness to another? Or have I allowed God’s mercy to transform me and flow onto those around me? Am I like that dry ground in the parable of the sower where the seeds could not take root? Or have I truly softened my heart and provided a fertile space where the things God says can flourish, bear fruit and bless others?

In 2020, may I remember Jesus’ parables and internalise them more and more. And may Jesus open my eyes too to see the ‘Cinderellas’ around me and reach out to any who need comfort, help and understanding.

Read Full Post »

Using those donkeys

I think it would be safe to say not many of us have donkeys tethered in the backyard these days. We do not get them out and saddle them up when we need to go shopping or pick the kids up or travel to another town. But this past week, I heard how a friend has decided to call her car her ‘donkey’—and with good reason.

You see, she often drives others who are unable to drive or don’t have cars to doctors’ appointments, waits there with them, then drives them home again—so much so that she has become a little tired of it. But one day recently, she read the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10 and was challenged all over again by the way this man cared for the stranger who had been robbed and beaten up. According to this story Jesus told, not only did the Samaritan delay his journey to stop and treat the man’s wounds but he also put him on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he proceeded to care further for him. Then, when he had to leave, as well as paying the innkeeper to continue caring for the injured man, he promised to pay any further money owed for the man’s care on his return. Amazing!

I guess that is the reason Jesus told such a story—to shock the ‘expert in the law’ (Luke 10:23) who well knew what was written there about loving God and loving one’s neighbour. And that shock value is still there for us today, as my friend can testify. Instead of grumbling about these demands on her time, she has decided to be thankful for her own good health, call her trusty, little car her ‘donkey’ and saddle it up over and over again, out of love for God and for others.

My friend’s response challenged me so much that I came home and read that Good Samaritan story for myself. As I did, I noted the little conversation at the end where the expert of the law has to admit the Samaritan was the true, merciful neighbour to the one who had been robbed. And I also could not ignore Jesus’ final, unequivocal command—Go and do likewise (Luke 10:37).

So … what does my ‘likewise’ involve? What should it look like? Yes, perhaps it might involve driving someone somewhere in my own ‘donkey’ for an appointment at times, but God calls and gifts each one of us in different ways. Perhaps for me, showing mercy to my neighbour might involve taking someone a casserole at times or inviting them to our home for a meal. But it might also involve helping someone with their writing project or being prepared to speak at some event they are organising in order to support them or selling their books alongside my own books somewhere. Whatever shape that ‘donkey’ may take in my life, I need to saddle it up and use it well for the purpose God intended, showing love to others in the same way as I so easily show it to myself every day of my life.

How about you? What will your ‘likewise’ involve? Are you using your own ‘donkey’ well?

Read Full Post »