I pray for interactions like the one I describe below every day. I pray to be a light- to walk in the Light and reflect the love that God has for each one of us. I pray for that real and simple of a way to show His love every day.
So why am I telling a story that happened a year and a half ago?
Because the majority of my interactions with people are not like that. They are selfish and apathetic, uncaring and surface. I want so badly to be the person that I wrote about down there. The person that has acts like that flow naturally our of her- that does nothing forced and because she should and because she has thought about "what Jesus would do" but acts purely out of Love. Talks in Love. Walks in Love.
And I think, will my children remember that? Do they remember that interaction? Or will they only remember the times that I complain about other drivers in the cars, or smile politely at strangers with a hope that we won't have to interact. Hmmmmm.....
I pray, dear God, keep me walking in the Light. Fill me. Let me live in your Love and Freedom and extend it to everyone around me!
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Being Authentic
One cold day last December I went to the store with my kids. It involved a lot of loading up- gloves and jackets for the kids and me, bags for the groceries in the back of the trailer- kids on bike. It was cold. (Laugh all you easterners. It was cold FOR US.) I was 7 months pregnant and biking wasn't yet hard- the co-op's an easy 10 minute ride.
When we rode up we saw a trio of people sitting outside. There are often street people there, it's on the fringes of downtown and gutter punks, home-free kids and travelers gather alongside the older more helpless homeless. There are tables outside and the staff is pretty relaxed.
But anyways, two were ladies- cold and wind-swept. We had an immediate connection. I pulled up on a bike, they're huddled outside- all of us creatures of the cold- at mercy to the elements for more than the stroll from the car to the store. But quite different of course, because I was out by choice, with a cozy home waiting. And I am always remarked upon, looked at. A woman- especially a very pregnant one- with a kid on the back of the bike pulling another one from the trailer is a spectacle.
I said something like: "cold, eh? How you holding up?" And we talked about that for awhile- the most comfortable one telling me the stories of how they snuck in to the Jesus Center to grab a cup of coffee- giggling about how they'd made it in even though they'd been kicked out of there. She and I chatted for awhile. And introduced ourselves. And talked about the kids and the wind and her friend and my pregnancy. Her name was Mary.
Can I get you a coffee?
Oh no, honey, we still have these ones.
Are you sleeping outside? Is it warm enough?
We sleep ok sweetie. I have a sleeping bag. It zips up.
Selah was getting cold. She whined to go inside, and Mary said, "Better get that little one inside." So I grabbed her hand in order to say, "Nice to meet you." But what came out was, "MARY! Your hands are freezing! Do you have any gloves?"
No, but I'll be ok.
Here, I said, pulling mine out of my pocket and giving them to her. For goodness sakes put them on!
Oh no, honey, I can't take yours. What will you do? You have to ride home.
I live really close, I said. Take them now and put them on! (In my light-hearted don't-mess-with-me-I-know-what's-best-for-you! voice. I get bossy. I blame being a teacher. Or being a Fusano. Either one works.)
Thank you so much sweetie!!!!
And then we left.
Here's what I can't remember. Did I say anything about why I acted that way? I am sure I did- but I don't remember what. I wish I would have held her cold hand a little longer and said: remember Mary, you are completely known and utterly loved by your Creator. Who sent me here with these gloves for you.
And I know I didn't explain: No Mary, I can give you these gloves because I belong to a different kingdom. One with a different set of rules and alternate economy. I don't have to know how I am going to get a new pair of gloves, or if I will be ok riding home without them. I know that I will be, because my God provides. Everything. Always.
When we rode up we saw a trio of people sitting outside. There are often street people there, it's on the fringes of downtown and gutter punks, home-free kids and travelers gather alongside the older more helpless homeless. There are tables outside and the staff is pretty relaxed.
But anyways, two were ladies- cold and wind-swept. We had an immediate connection. I pulled up on a bike, they're huddled outside- all of us creatures of the cold- at mercy to the elements for more than the stroll from the car to the store. But quite different of course, because I was out by choice, with a cozy home waiting. And I am always remarked upon, looked at. A woman- especially a very pregnant one- with a kid on the back of the bike pulling another one from the trailer is a spectacle.
I said something like: "cold, eh? How you holding up?" And we talked about that for awhile- the most comfortable one telling me the stories of how they snuck in to the Jesus Center to grab a cup of coffee- giggling about how they'd made it in even though they'd been kicked out of there. She and I chatted for awhile. And introduced ourselves. And talked about the kids and the wind and her friend and my pregnancy. Her name was Mary.
Can I get you a coffee?
Oh no, honey, we still have these ones.
Are you sleeping outside? Is it warm enough?
We sleep ok sweetie. I have a sleeping bag. It zips up.
Selah was getting cold. She whined to go inside, and Mary said, "Better get that little one inside." So I grabbed her hand in order to say, "Nice to meet you." But what came out was, "MARY! Your hands are freezing! Do you have any gloves?"
No, but I'll be ok.
Here, I said, pulling mine out of my pocket and giving them to her. For goodness sakes put them on!
Oh no, honey, I can't take yours. What will you do? You have to ride home.
I live really close, I said. Take them now and put them on! (In my light-hearted don't-mess-with-me-I-know-what's-best-for-you! voice. I get bossy. I blame being a teacher. Or being a Fusano. Either one works.)
Thank you so much sweetie!!!!
And then we left.
Here's what I can't remember. Did I say anything about why I acted that way? I am sure I did- but I don't remember what. I wish I would have held her cold hand a little longer and said: remember Mary, you are completely known and utterly loved by your Creator. Who sent me here with these gloves for you.
And I know I didn't explain: No Mary, I can give you these gloves because I belong to a different kingdom. One with a different set of rules and alternate economy. I don't have to know how I am going to get a new pair of gloves, or if I will be ok riding home without them. I know that I will be, because my God provides. Everything. Always.
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