The Reluctant Samaritan
Rod comes home from work on Thursday, we get in the spa ('hot tub,' Americans) as we normally do at the end of the day and the first words out of Rod's mouth are:
"Oh yes, blog material!" I say. With wine in hand and sweat on brow, I begin taking my mental taking notes... unfortunately . . . . or, actually, fortunately, no pics . . . but here it goes...
Rod is standing on the footpath (sidewalk, you people) outside a local cafe waiting to meet a friend for coffee. Up the path, half a block along is a bench at the bus stop. All of a sudden he hears a loud grunt coming from that direction and looks to see what is happening.
This shoddy looking, unkempt man is sitting on the bench and reaching with both hands into his mouth and pulling out what looks like a large pink object from his throat. Rod thinks, "is he choking," and waits a moment to see what is happening.
All of a sudden, the man's throat releases whatever was in it and with a few additional bits and pieces to boot, he expels it to the ground.
Rod is silently relieved that the Heimlich was not going to be required....
Then, while anxiously checking his mobile (cell phone) for the time and after a few more uncomfortable glances at the bus stop loner, Rod sees the man is clearly not well. Drunk or high, more like it. . . . When, all of a sudden the man rears back and power pukes across the footpath right in front of the bench he's sitting on - - fortunately, not he doesn't hit any walkers.
Now Rod starts to think the Samaritan moment he hoped had passed is going to require super-human compassion as it re-emerges. He realises he really needs to go help this guy, no matter what he might look like - - - and, no matter what he might expel on his professional, career garb.
He makes the first step, when all of a sudden a pristinely-dressed woman leaps out of her immaculate BMW and races up to the man, asking him if he needs help. He doesn't want help, he says, and wanders - - drunkenly - - down the street.
Rod secretly sighs . . . . but all day, he said, he felt guilty for hesitating. Are we only called to be Good Samaritans to people who smell good, look good and act kind of like us??
The next morning, as Rod still feels a bit of shame, we read our morning devotion, which pondered:
"As Christians, we may make mistakes that we feel reflect poorly on Christ and his church. Others usually forgive our mistakes, but often we can not forgive ourselves. We fail to accept that part of the learning process is making mistakes. If we allow past mistakes to preoccupy us, we 'score points' for the wrong side. There is no shame in making mistakes. The meaning of the cross is that because of God's love, grace is available for our mistakes and sins. We honour the cross when we accept God's grace and continue to try."
WOW! God knows what we need to hear, when we need to hear it!
Rod will keep trying....
postscript: He walked by the scene after his coffee date and the thing the man was pulling out of his throat was apparently a large piece of sandwich meat. Hmmm....yummy.....
"The grossest thing happened to me today!"
"Oh yes, blog material!" I say. With wine in hand and sweat on brow, I begin taking my mental taking notes... unfortunately . . . . or, actually, fortunately, no pics . . . but here it goes...
Rod is standing on the footpath (sidewalk, you people) outside a local cafe waiting to meet a friend for coffee. Up the path, half a block along is a bench at the bus stop. All of a sudden he hears a loud grunt coming from that direction and looks to see what is happening.
This shoddy looking, unkempt man is sitting on the bench and reaching with both hands into his mouth and pulling out what looks like a large pink object from his throat. Rod thinks, "is he choking," and waits a moment to see what is happening.
All of a sudden, the man's throat releases whatever was in it and with a few additional bits and pieces to boot, he expels it to the ground.
Rod is silently relieved that the Heimlich was not going to be required....
Then, while anxiously checking his mobile (cell phone) for the time and after a few more uncomfortable glances at the bus stop loner, Rod sees the man is clearly not well. Drunk or high, more like it. . . . When, all of a sudden the man rears back and power pukes across the footpath right in front of the bench he's sitting on - - fortunately, not he doesn't hit any walkers.
Now Rod starts to think the Samaritan moment he hoped had passed is going to require super-human compassion as it re-emerges. He realises he really needs to go help this guy, no matter what he might look like - - - and, no matter what he might expel on his professional, career garb.
He makes the first step, when all of a sudden a pristinely-dressed woman leaps out of her immaculate BMW and races up to the man, asking him if he needs help. He doesn't want help, he says, and wanders - - drunkenly - - down the street.
Rod secretly sighs . . . . but all day, he said, he felt guilty for hesitating. Are we only called to be Good Samaritans to people who smell good, look good and act kind of like us??
The next morning, as Rod still feels a bit of shame, we read our morning devotion, which pondered:
"As Christians, we may make mistakes that we feel reflect poorly on Christ and his church. Others usually forgive our mistakes, but often we can not forgive ourselves. We fail to accept that part of the learning process is making mistakes. If we allow past mistakes to preoccupy us, we 'score points' for the wrong side. There is no shame in making mistakes. The meaning of the cross is that because of God's love, grace is available for our mistakes and sins. We honour the cross when we accept God's grace and continue to try."
WOW! God knows what we need to hear, when we need to hear it!
Rod will keep trying....
postscript: He walked by the scene after his coffee date and the thing the man was pulling out of his throat was apparently a large piece of sandwich meat. Hmmm....yummy.....
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