I was hungry earlier, hungry enough that I knew I would have
a hard time falling asleep and since it was nearly 9:00 at night and I was traveling
for work, I jumped in the car a went to the nearest Wendy’s for a snack. I had essentially skipped dinner to go
for a run with a friend, so while I was driving I was mildly annoyed by the
inconvenience of having to drive to get food.
(looks delicious doesn't it?)
After collecting my order of a plain baked potato, small
chili, and small frosty, I sat in the car devouring my frosty with an urgency that
would have startled most civilized people.
Finished with the frosty, I sent my older sister a text encouraging her
with her newest undertaking, put the car in drive, and aimed the car back
towards the hotel so I could eat the rest of my delectable food while watching
hockey playoffs.
Not a hundred feet out of the parking lot I spotted a woman,
pushing her walker up a hill towards a bus stop. That was the moment when I
heard God tell me to stop and offer her
something to eat. You've probably heard that voice too, the same voice that
says you should buy the homeless guy on the corner a lunch. It was one of those moments where you have
the unique capacity to fill a need and nothing preventing you from doing so. It
was a golden opportunity to be the
hands and feet of the Church.
And I kept driving.
I could blame the fact that I was caught off guard by a
sudden lane closure and construction barrels,
I could try to justify my action
by the fact that I was still quite hungry and my company had paid for me to
eat, not a random stranger. That doesn't change the fact that I disobeyed God
in that instance. That realization came crashing in on my feast of
calorie-laden indulgence and convicted me. My heart hurt. I was no longer hungry, and while I ate the
food I purchased I’m not sure if it was out of guilt, habit, or need.
As I made my way back to the hotel, I began to pray to God and listen to His
responses. I’ll share the dialogue
with you in hopes that I can capture some of the emotion. I’ll also suggest,
before you call me crazy, that anyone
who regularly prays to God and doesn't get a response is either lying (trying
to not sound crazy) or truly insane as the effort required by praying regularly
would be oppressive if there was NEVER a response.
“Lord, did she really need
my food” I prayed, searching and
hoping for a reason to feel less guilty.
“No, she didn't. I needed you to stop”.
And with that, God called me out in a significant way. My guilt doubled or tripled. Not only would a woman who appeared needy
not have a meal, but I had simply disobeyed my God.
I had assumed that He asked me to stop because the woman
needed food, not because I needed a reminder in obedience. I had assumed that, because she was pushing a
walker, she was the one who needed help.
I think that my mistake is more common than I’d like to admit. I think that oftentimes, Christian behave
in a manner that is sinfully self-righteous.
It would not have occurred to me when I heard the command “Stop and
offer her your food” that I was being called to obey, not necessarily be a
knight in shining armor. I assumed in
that case that I was being asked to be the righteous hands and feet of Christ.
After all, doesn't that sound better than being asked to obey?
I’m honestly not sure of the entirety of the lesson I
learned tonight as I’m still sitting in my bed processing what happened a scant
hour ago. I suspect it’s a lifelong
lesson and there is a lot there. Was God
asking me of my relationship with the food? Did He want to know where my heart
lay at that moment; the Creator or the potato? Or, as an omniscient God, did he
know the result and use it to teach me and instruct me? The
answer to those questions, as best as I can tell, is yes.
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