Again, it is the simple things in life that bring great joy.
A good cup of coffee. (Why do I always seem to start with this?)
A simple yet challenging read.
Conversation with a friend.
And much more.
I’m on my way out the door for a drive to Nashville with Melissa and I’m realizing how much I’m looking forward to the time with here. And we’re stopping at Billy Goat’s on the way back for a GOOD cup of coffee. So I’m reminded that it is the simple things in life that bring great joy.
It was Thursday about 11 AM. Melissa and I were heading out of town for our 5th anniversary and the adventure was just starting. We were running late getting out of town and the inner me that hates to be late was getting more frustrated by the minute. But we were finally getting out of town; time to head east onI-40 and get away.
As we pulled onto the entrance ramp we were greated with the sight of a hitch hiker. We have a pretty steadfast rule to not pick up hitch hikers. If I’m approached in a parking lot for help I have no problem helping if I can but in my mind it takes a certain amount of craziness to want to walk a road that has large vehicles traveling at high rates of speed. So as soon as I saw him my mind, and I’m sure Melissa’s also, said “KEEP GOING”. And I hit the gas. But as we passed this man we saw he was a senior adult, dressed in his Sunday best. And then we saw the rain clouds overhead. And we looked at each other – both thinking the same thought. I simply said, “we need to get him”.
Of course I was on the interstate at this point. So we planned to get off at the next exit, turn around and if he was still there we’d pick him up. So we did. And he was.
Melissa hopped out of the car and into the back seat, leaving the door open and I asked him if we could give him a ride. And this man’s face lit up. Like a child a Christmas. He got in the Jeep with us and I found out his name was Steve and he was trying to get to Wal-mart. Steve was dressed in a blazed and a plaid shirt, which was stained and had old food caked on it. He told us he dressed in his best so someone would see he wasn’t crazy and would offer him a ride. And it worked.
It was humorous to watch Steve sit in the front seat where Melissa had been. She is 5′2″ and had the seat set for her. Steve is about 6′2″ and was folded into the space he had. When we suggested he move the seat back for some room he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to mess up how Melissa had the seat set up for her.
As we drove to Wal-mart, we found out more on Steve. He’d been in Cookeville 40+ years, was from Detroit, went to First Baptist, had a car that’s engine blew up, had no family here, wanted to get some things to get through the weekend, had lupus years ago, and thought this was a dark, dying, devil world. He said that a lot. And when I told him I was a minister, he said it a whole lot more. Everything was part of this dark, dying, devils world.
When we pulled in to Wal-mart, Steve commented that he appreciated the ride and he’d find another ride home. At which point a little rain started to fall. We told him we’d wait and give him a ride. For some reason the frustrated Dave was gone. It didn’t matter when we got on the road. We knew Steve would probably walk home in the rain on the interstate. Steve shopped and came out with 2 bags filled with Pepsi, raisin bread, apple pies and other treats. This was what he was going to have for a few days to get to the weekend.
Taking Steve back to his home, we continued to talk. And we began to realize this man has no one and how lonely he is. I’ve gone by Steve’s place a few times, hoping to see him and check on him but I have yet to find him at home. It’s interesting that one encounter with one person has caused me to adjust how I look at people and to reevaluate how the interactions I have with people can be the most important thing I do all day.
But I still won’t stop for hitch hikers.
There are 3 things I want to write on but other obligations are keeping me from doing so right now.
So please remind me to post on these things soon:
1. Steve the hitch hiking senior adult
2. Our 5th wedding anniversary
3. The connecting church and home conference I went to and how it is affecting my philosophy of ministry.
Life is about learning and most of the time once I learn something I like to think I know it. Except for math. I learned that and I still don’t know it. However, I’m grasping that sometimes I have to unlearn and relearn that which I think I know. In the past few months I’ve been in process, and honestly still am, of unlearning 2 things.
The first is my dependence on God. It is pretty simple to feel you rely on God when life is good, simple and easy. But what happens when life takes a VERY unexpected turn? I realize that a lot of the time when I thought I was relying on God one of two things was happening – either I wasn’t relying on God and was simply fooling myself into thinking everything was good because I was relying on God or I was relying on my own abilities and strengths. I’ve been unlearning my thoughts and actions for relying on God and having to trust Him to reteach me what it means to rely on Him. Not an easy thing to unlearn, a long process, one that is painful at times and confusing at others. But I realize that unless I unlearn my understanding of relying on God and embrace His understanding (not a good word but it’s all I’ve got) of reliance I will continue to feel frustrated and thwarted in my efforts as a man, husband, Christian, minister and more.
The second thing I am unlearning is loving someone. I know that sounds odd but I am having to unlearn how to love so I can relearn what it means to love them as I love myself (see Matthew 22). This is most illustrated in my marriage but is also unfolding in the relationships I have with my family, my students, and even the random people I encounter in everyday life.
I know that in both instances it is a process that will never end. I will constantly unlearn and relearn what it means to rely on God and to love. It should bother me to think I won’t have it “mastered” anytime soon but I am oddly ok with that. I’m simply in process – no better and no worse than the person next to me – and I embrace it and invite opportunity to discover how God wants me to rely on Him and love.
