"Are you afraid?"
Yesterday while taking my small children to the restroom at the public library, I was approached by a young woman. She had quite obviously been watching us and taken this opportunity away from the watchful eyes of the security guard to talk to me. She told me her sad story about a father dying and a young daughter who needed food. I'm a mom and I was not born yesterday. I saw that she was either a great liar with a good story or she was in bad shape. I had no money to give to her. I rarely ever carry cash with me. So I offered to bring her some groceries. She immediately wondered if I would actually come back. I took down her phone number and told her I would give her a call when I was coming back and I could meet her. She asked me for my number. I gave it to her. In that moment, it seemed like a simple thing to do. Within a few minutes, she had suggested that she could come with me to the store. When I hesitated she asked, "Are you afraid?" I told her no...and in that moment, I really was not afraid (mostly I was annoyed).
So, we headed to the store, she and my girls and I ...and almost as soon as she got in the car the conversations shifted to spiritual things. "Are you a Christian?" I got to hear a little more about her background, how she had grown up, what God had been teaching her. Her knowledge was but a framework, she didn't know how to put into words what she thought she believed. She asked some questions and I talked to her about Him. Jesus...the reason I was driving a complete stranger to the store to buy groceries...because, I believe that is what He would do. At the store she graciously picked out things that her four year old daughter would like. She always grabbed the store brand. She was very cautious and always asked if it was too much. We grabbed the basics to make lunches, to have a few dinners, to wash their hair and clothes. My girls picked out a few things...milk and a few treats...and we were finished there. She thanked me.
I drove her home. She thanked me again. We unpacked the groceries into her yard and we drove away. Then the conversation started with my girls. The twelve year old thought what we had done was risky and suspicious but that she seemed like she was trying to be a good mom. The five year old thought the girl was nice. We chatted about the little girl who would come home to a real (frozen) dinner and popsicles from a nineteen year old mom who doesn't know how to cook. The conversation changed to what else we could do for her...and I was so proud of them then. They are beginning to understand that there are people in the world who need help and they can make a difference, no matter how small. It is beginning to become natural to help. We came home and they gathered a few things to take to them, blankets and toys and a small blow up mattress for the little girl that we didn't even meet. They talked about her like they know her and were thoughtful about what she might like. It is all sitting by the front door ready to be delivered.
"What if...?"
When we were eating dinner, the twelve year old said, "Did you tell dad about what we did?" He knew that we were buying groceries for her but hadn't heard the story yet. He reminded us of the importance to be careful with how much information we give out about ourselves and that sort of thing. Instead of feeling good about what I had just done, I began to let fear set in...I did let my guard down a little, I did give her my phone number, I did tell her the name of our church (which meets in our home right now). It made me worried and it made me mad that I would need to worry. Isn't it just what we are called to do...to help other people, to share with them a little of what we have been given? Doesn't God say to take care of the least of these? What if...by doing something good, I brought some kind of harm to my own kids? In the moment, I didn't feel afraid at all, but lying in my bed last night, I couldn't rest thinking of all the "what ifs" that were rushing through my brain. It really was enough to steal the joy out of the whole thing. I felt vulnerable and frustrated and so many other different emotions. For what? Probably nothing.
In the light of day this morning, I am less afraid and concerned. I feel a little better after a reasonable amount of sleep. I know that I did the right thing even if it was possibly a risky endeavor. Am I naive enough to believe that this was a one time occurance for this girl? Not hardly. I am sure that I looked like a friendly face to someone who is good at searching them out. She was street smart and savvy (one of my favorite pirate words... arrgh). I know she probably thought I was crazy for helping her. I'm pretty sure she will be at the library (or some other location) today looking for someone else like me to give her a hand. Is that a reason not to help? Is there really any reason not to help?
"What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? in the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead." -James 2:14-17
"For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.' They also will answer, "Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?" He will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me." -Matthew 25:42-45
What could I do differently?
Share less information.
Be honest if I am uncomfortable.
Say "no" if it is something unreasonable.
Carry a bag of groceries in my car in case of "emergencies".
Worry less, trust more and count the cost.
