Faith

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When we look at our spiritual paths, with all the ups and downs, it is sometimes tempting to think of certain events as if they were endpoints or "graduations."

Many of us may think that way about the day we first decided God might be real, or the day we accepted Jesus as our Lord and Savior. The pitfall in that kind of thinking is the tendency to let our faith journeys slide into neutral.

I look back on an odd experience I had a couple of years ago when I was praying, almost daily, that God would find a "use" for me. Almost daily, that prayer seemed to be answered.

Once, I was walking to work along a busy thoroughfare and a car literally stalled next to me. I know absolutely nothing about how to fix a car, but I know how to operate a cellphone! Soon the driver was on her way again.

Another time, a woman was driving past me in a minivan when a piece of playground equipment on top of the van blew off in rush-hour traffic. Because I "happened" to be there, we were able to rescue the playset and tie it back on the roof.

But the opportunity that still weighs on my heart involved a woman living in her car in a small park I walked by nearly every day.

I knew God was challenging me to reach out to that woman. Day after day I tried to work up the courage to speak to her -- and day after day I failed.

Finally I convinced myself (with God's help) that the next morning I would approach her. Guiltily I found myself praying she would not be there.

Next morning, the battered Mercedes was there, tucked in its usual corner of the parking lot, every seat but the driver's packed with clothing, food, books and the woman's other belongings.

Jaw clenched, I approached the car, with no idea what to say.

I needn't have been concerned. As the woman saw me approaching, she quickly rolled up her window and glared angrily out. I could read her lips saying, "GO AWAY!"

I wanted nothing more than to do just that. The last thing I wanted was to upset her! "Lord," I thought, "I am out of my league here. I don't know what I'm doing."

I shouted something that sounded inane even to me, something like "God just wanted me to tell you He loves you."

In response, she started the engine and started backing out of the parking place.

Holding my hands up in supplication (or surrender) I backed away. At least don't let her leave because of me, I prayed.

As I backed off, she eased back into the parking place, still glaring, now mouthing curses.

"Well God, I tried," I thought. "You saw me. I was WAY outside my comfort zone there and I still TRIED."

I rationalized that somehow I'd done enough to be "off the hook." I mean, I was probably the only person who had EVER approached that woman for any reason other than to harass her! I even started to feel pretty good about myself, like I'd graduated from a class -- Reaching Out to the Homeless 101.

Not long after that, I was relocated to another state and stopped thinking about the old woman in the battered Mercedes.

But an odd thing happened. My wife and I ran into a woman who works with the homeless where we live and I agreed to help out at an Easter service for them. Later we agreed to lead a Bible study with the homeless. Soon we got to know some of them well enough to bring them birthday presents and count them as friends.

When someone discovered a homeless man living on our church's property, guess who God sent to speak with him first?

When I looked at myself calmly introducing myself to this homeless man, offering him food, friendship and prayer, I was astounded. It hadn't been so long ago that I'd been boasting of my feeble attempts at reaching out to the woman in the Mercedes.

I thought about how silly I'd been to feel like I'd passed some sort of "outreach exam" months before.

Most of us would probably agree that one of the best things about "graduating" is the feeling that we've completed something.

Well I learned one of the worst things about "graduating."

It's the feeling that you've completed something.

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