Shame on Me

I blew it today. I had a clear opportunity to be like Jesus--to be Jesus with skin on--to be a good Samaritan...but I passed it by. Or rather I sat quietly in my car hoping the opportunity would quickly pass me by.

It was raining. We were at the bank, and Jeff and Josiah were inside. David and I were in the car waiting for them. A few parking spaces from where we were, there were two young men who, I realized as I kept watching them, were having car problems--apparently, a dead battery. They made several calls on their cell phones, they eventually figured out how to lift the hood of their car, they got out some jumper cables, they stood in the rain and waited, they gestured at several cars going through the lane across from them to come over and help...and meanwhile, I sat and waited with locked doors, thinking that if Jeff returned before they had gotten help, he would be able to help them--in fact, if he was hesitant, I would be zealous in convincing him to help because I'm such a caring person. But I couldn't help them. After all, I don't know how to hook up jumper cables. After all, I had a young child in the car that I needed to protect. After all, I'm a woman and am vulnerable.

Why didn't I just roll down the window and talk with them and offer to move my van so they could use it to jump start their car? Why didn't I inconvenience myself to serve them in such a small way? Why wasn't I like Jesus???

I know the reason. I was blinded by fear and prejudice. I looked at the color of their skin and the bagginess of their clothes, and I decided not to help them. I am so ashamed. I know if it had been a woman, especially a woman of my own skin color, I would not have hesitated to help...and yet I judged those two men simply on external characteristics that don't mean anything. I sat there praying and knowing that God was urging me to act, and I ignored His voice. Shame on me!

Recently, we had problems with the battery in our minivan so I know what it feels like to not have your car start and need a simple jump. I know how miserable it must have been for them to stand in the rain and almost beg passing cars to stop to help them...and watch as they went on by.

You know who finally helped them? A Hispanic man. Through his dark eyes, he sees the world so much differently than me, so much more humbly than me, so much more purely than me.

Oh, God, forgive me; I am so very sorry for my actions today and the horrible heart it revealed. I long to be more like You, to have a heart transplant and live and breathe and move and serve with Your heart and not my own. I need You so desperately...