I don’t want to start the woodstove. It means going into the even colder woodroom to fetch wood, collect lint, cardboard and kindling, set up, light up. And wait. For success or failure. Regardless of the outcome, there will be more work and more waiting until the woodstove finally generates enough heat to shut it down. Once started, the fire must be tended to until I go to work tonight – when the embers will eventually sizzle out. And the cycle will begin again – tomorrow.
The process resembles any endeavor, even living itself: once begun it must be tended to again – tomorrow.
Abandoned At DQ
Yesterday, I drove to DQ for lunch, killing time until GameStop opened. I went inside to place my order, and then returned to my car to eat. It had begun snowing again, with huge, soggy flakes that melted as they landed. As I sat behind the driver’s wheel, opening the plastic lid of my salad, an old hatless man with a balding head and a gray beard shuffled past my window toward the the DQ entrance. His oversized olive-green jacket hung to his knees and over his hands, while a sagging, soaked lime-green striped construction vest clung to him. Instead of using the front door, he opened the black gate and made his way to the iron picnic tables.
He tipped a black bench, swiped off the snow puddles from the slats, and sat down.
It was freezing out. And snowing. And he sat.
I put down my salad, got out of my car, walked over to him, and asked if he was hungry.
He pointed to his left ear and shook his head.
I motioned to my mouth. “Eat?”
He shrugged.
So I motioned for him to “Follow me.”
I held the DQ door open for him, pointed to a seat, and once he had inched himself into the bench I motioned again “Hungry?” He pointed to his ear. I pointed to my mouth. He pressed his index finger to his thumb which I took to mean ‘a little’ and I replied “Ok. I’ll be right back.”
Since DQ doesn’t serve hot drinks, so I ordered him a small coke and a small fry.
“Stay here. Stay warm.” I told him as I handed him the drink and bag of fries. “They will probably only let you stay a for half hour or so.” But by then, he had closed his eyes and was beginning to nod off.
Abandoned
I shouldn’t have left him. But I had no plan B. .
I couldn’t bring the old man home with me. Home belongs to my daughter and son-in-law. I couldn’t invite him into my heated car because maybe he wouldn’t leave. I only hoped that someone at DQ would step in after I left.
Every decision we make in any circumstance is like that. One decision made after another with our fingers crossed, hoping that it was the right decision at the right moment. With our fingers crossed or with a prayer. We breathe another breath. We step another step. “Is this the way, Lord? Is this the right way?”
I drove off to Game Stop to finish my salad there. Decision made. “God help him.”
If the ‘Good Samaritan’ was broke, would he have stopped to help the man?
“But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and …“
If he was broke, how far would this story go?
“bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day...”
But if the Samaritan was broke would the next day matter?
“he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I wll reimburse you for any extra expenses you may have.’
I won’t be going back to DQ for awhile. I don’t want to know what happened after I left.
I could have done more.
But I did something.
Is something enough?
If God just did just ‘something’ with my life where would I be now?
It sure does making reading out loud Ps 95 like dry liver in a parched throat – chokingly hypocritical at the least.
“Come, let us sing to the Lord and shout with joy to the Rock who saves us. Let us approach him with praise and thanksgiving and sing joyful songs to the Lord.”
What right do I have to gloat in my own comfortableness singing and shouting with joy when there is an old homeless man that I left in DQ?
Every month I withdraw money from one bank to deposit it into another bank in order to pay my credit card bills. Always I withdraw an extra $100 to give to one of the many homeless tent people who stand on the traffic islands holding their signs. I feel good about doing it yet at the same time wondering at ‘it’s never enough.’
Last December I ‘adopted’ three families to help through the Christmas season, because as a single parent of two I know how hard and disheartening Christmas was with a Charlie Brown tree and GoodWill gifts. Everything they wanted or needed I bought. But a year later, I’m still trying to catch up on credit cards for doing that.
One of the girls texted me a week ago to see if I could help out again. Do I say “yes” and assume God will applaud me by helping me with my bills or do I just ignore the texts?
If I tell them “I can’t” is that like leaving the old man at DQ and going my own way? Like the Samaritan if he was broke doing what h could, then leaving the mam still in the ditch?
The church sermons are all so black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. But real life isn’t. Real life is glorious in so many ways and sucks in so many others. It’s not like God or Jesus is standing behind me whispering, “Oh this is what I would like you to do.”
Last night my daughter was watching the movie EUROVISION in the livingroom when I came up for dinner. “Watch the ending with me. It’s good.” She knows I only like happy endings. I usually laugh it off as being part of the ‘Disney Generation’ because Disney movies always end happily-ever-after. But it really stems from wanting to know…needing to know…that even the most disastrous decisions made at the beginning of every movie (the plot) will turn out for the best. I need to know that life is like that. I want to know that life is like that. The Life. The Cross. The Death. The Resurrection. I need to know. I want to know. The Ascension.
It’s not guilt that I keep seeing my DQ decision in Scripture; it’s questioning.
“…though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty yet I would appeal to you on the basis of love.” (Phl 1:8-9) … “each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed.” (James 1:14)
Lunch – GameStop – Enticements?
What would I have done with this old man in my car? Would God have come to my aide? Would He have shown me what to do? Or would He have left me on my own to figure it out? The Way is not etched in black and white any more than the definition of love is. But I do know that doing the best we can is not enough. I should have at least prayed and asked God what to do.
Rinse And Repeat
So
I started the morning over.
I got wood from the woodroom, collected the lint, cardboard and kindling, set it up, lit it up. And waited. For success or failure.
“Come, let us worship the Lord, the King who is to come.”
Maybe if I stay busy enough I will forget about the old man that I left at DQ…but I doubt it.