While walking out of my parent’s house today, I noticed a car obviously having trouble starting. By the time I put Goob in, our stuff, and was making my way to the car door, I could hear the frustration of a young lady inside through an open window. I stood for a few moments debating in my head what to do; I leave just with enough time to pick up husby from the train station. Surely I would be late if I tried to help.
My gaze fell to the rear window where I saw the handle of a baby carrier. I saw a gentleman sitting in the back equally frustrated as indicated by the tone in his voice as he responded to the woman. In that moment I knew that being the hands and feet of Jesus often pulls us out of the plans we have made, even if they include your husby having to stand on a corner waiting for you. (At least it was a most lovely day.)
I went over to the driver’s side door, and through the cracked window asked if they needed help specifically perhaps a boost. The gentleman responded he did not think that was the problem. He got out to check on the car, as did the woman. I peeked through the rear window and squealed at the cuteness that was the most perfect little baby girl in the backseat. I told the mom how absolutely precious she was, and immediately her expression softened, the tone of her voice changed, and as she smiled, she said, “Thank you so much.” I proceeded to chit chat asking “How many weeks the baby was?”, etc.
In that moment, my father just happened to be walking home and I called him over. He had a look in the car and all it turned out to be–was a car that had just run out of gas. Daddy went home; the gentleman was on the phone. I asked if they were sure they would have someone that could come and help them and they said yes. So I went on my way.
In the moments I stood debating what to do, I saw a young lady who was probably frustrated enough with the daunting task of being a mother to a newborn. And your car breaking down in the middle of a street does nothing to soothe already fragile nerves. I did not offer much; in fact, I could have and perhaps should have offered much more. But in that moment, a kind word seemed to be a remedy that could diffuse a tense situation. A stranger willing to walk over and ask if they needed any help drew the attention away from the obvious bickering that was about to take place.
I don’t write this post to brag. In all my actions, thoughts, and deeds I want to remain humble. I write this as an encouragement to you. Sometimes just an offer of a helping hand or a comment on how cute someone’s baby is can help to soften a hard mood. Walls come down. It’s what I would want if I were sitting in the middle of a street in a car refusing to move with a crying seven-week-old baby in the backseat.
Kind words are like honey–
they cheer you up and make you feel strong.
Proverbs 16:24 CEV
I am going to try to be better at updating and one of the things I am trying to do is draw inspiration from the various blogs I subscribe to and read daily through my email.
This was today’s favorite post: The Audacity of Hope.
Angie Smith’s post often resonate with me (As do her books; I am currently reading What Women Fear.).
In my life, hope has led me to pray. It has led me to believe Him. To have the boldness to say that I trust Him above the hurt. It has given me a reason to lift my head, to stake my claim, and to dismiss the shadows that whisper, “it will not be redeemed.” We do not know the ways of the Lord, of course. I’ve heard it said a thousand times and I agree. But there is more to say, isn’t there?
This statement could not be true. Even in the midst of knowing I was losing our baby in late April of 2009, I prayed and hoped with all my might that the Lord would redeem the situation. I did not get the ending I wanted and to this day I still do not have the things I want, but my trust is in Him alone. And my hope is personified in the way I live out my life for Him–as messy as it sometimes looks and is.
Be well, folks.