I'll take you there (part two)

I really didn't know anything about the lady that crossed my path Monday morning. When I asked if I could take her home, she told me that she lived on Park Row, which was very close by and Jennifer, the postal clerk, told me she walked to the Post Office often. Jennifer also told me that she was a nice little old lady, and hesitantly, but kindly, said, "I don't know what it is, but something's wrong with her, something's missing...she's just not quite right." And I nodded and silently agreed. It was obvious that she had had a very difficult life. Just by looking at her, I think anyone would agree. She walked really slow. I mean really, really slow; as slow as my granddaughter Bella walks at 8 1/2 months, when she holds my hands and I use my legs to help move hers. She wore a crocheted tam, had straight, gray, unkempt hair, and only one noticeable tooth in the top of her mouth. In her small metal shopping cart, like the ones I saw in London, England, was a cardboard box, approximately 10 inches square, that had the name of someone written very largely on all four sides. The name, I assumed, was a relative, who, I wish, could have seen the effort she had gone to to get it there. I wondered several things about the little old lady... how long she had had no teeth; if she lived alone; if she had ever driven; where she lived; if she had ever had a husband; why she walked with a limp; if she had ever had a job; who helped her if she needed help; and so on and so on...I could only imagine. Since several cars had not stopped for her as she was crossing the street, I felt obligated to stop which is where part one began. It ended when she waved back at me and walked out the door. Here is where part two starts and the rest of the story begins. I was full of emotion... I mean overcome with emotion. I knew that all eyes were on me because everyone had been watching both of us and, I believe, everyone saw the disappointment on my face when she said "no" to me. But even knowing they were still watching, I could not stop the tears from flowing. I looked away and I cried. I talked to the clerk and I cried. I took a deep breath and I cried. I tried to stop and I still cried. This woman had affected me in a way only a few people ever had. I apologized to the clerk for crying but told her I could not stop and I was so sorry. She said it was okay and thanked me for asking the lady if I could take her home. I left and drove just a few blocks to see my husband, Phil. I was overcome with emotion. After recounting the story to him, this is what I realized. I was not crying because she had said "no," I was crying because I had said "yes." In John 13, when Jesus washes the disciple's feet, he tells them, "now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them." He does not say you will be blessed if you know these things, he says that you will be blessed if you do these things. And I had been blessed because I had done what the Spirit told me to do. Yes, I became emotionally attached to the verse that says knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. Recently, I asked my lady's Bible class to tell me a time when they ever listened to the Spirit and actually went out of their comfort zone to do what He told them to do. "Tell me about a time when you actually did what you normally would not have done, but felt like you had to do it." And Deborah Weed spoke up. She told me about a homeless man she saw needing money. She took him home, allowed him to bathe, and gave him a job. He stayed for a few weeks, took advantage of her family, so they asked him to leave. Deborah did what most of us would not have done and because she did, she was blessed because she did it. If Deborah had passed the man by, but known she should have helped him, she would not have been blessed at all. It was only in her doing that her life was blessed. It's only in our doing that the "word becomes flesh" and we gain understanding. "It is more blessed to give than to receive," Jesus tells us, and Deborah received that blessing and understood why. You see, when I was overcome with emotion, the emotion came because I had entered a realm in an entirely different dimension. It's where Jesus lived. It's where Jesus lives. It's in the heavenlies. It's in a different place and time. It's where nothing else matters except what really matters. It's where you do what you do and you don't care who's watching or listening. God's will is going to be done and He's going to do it through you. It's like being on auto-pilot and you know you're not the pilot. The other lesson I learned that day was this: Every time someone enters my life because I think I'm supposed to teach them a lesson, they are there to teach me a lesson. God has proved this to me over and over again. Years ago, Phil was representing a client who was a persistent felony offender who happened to be a carpenter. Since we were wanting to enclose our garage, he asked if I minded him hiring the client. I said that I wasn't, so he hired him. He was supposedly, a reformed drug addict who just happened to carry a backpack and wanted to be paid every day. Duh! Since he and I were constantly together, I learned a lot about him. He had a strained relationship with his aging mother, who mowed the yard with the lawnmower he ultimately sold to buy drugs with. He had wounds on his legs that wouldn't heal. He was divorced from his wife, estranged from his daughter, and couldn't hold down a job. But his biggest problem was HE HAD NO MONEY to pay for his once $600.00 a day drug habit or anything else, for that matter. He had creditors calling him every day and was constantly looking over his shoulder for people he had taken advantage of. Several times when he asked if he could drive my car, (because he had lost his license) I quite naively loaned it to him. Okay, so Teresa is stupid but thought she could be his savior. He started coming to church with us and eventually became a Christian, which, he thought would stop him from being a drug addict. However, he found out when someone goes down into the water a drug addict, they come up a Christian who is still a drug addict. I even went through detox (his seventh time) with him to "dry him out," not knowing this is what drug addicts do to be able to start the habit all over again. So I thought this is why God put "Joe" into our life...so we could bring him to Christ and fix his problems. It was during this time, that I started a support group. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew with God I could figure it out. It was based on the book The Twelve Steps in a Christian's Life. Like a bolt of lightning one day, I heard God say, "Teresa, "Joe" has come into your life because he has more problems than you can possibly fix or handle. YOU cannot fix them." In other words, He was teaching me that "Joe" had come into my life with problems that were impossible for me to fix, impossible for me to handle, so I could turn him over to the God who could fix and handle them. With me, "Joe" was impossible, but with God, he was not. AND THAT WAS WHAT GOD WAS TEACHING ME THROUGH "Joe." "Joe" was the worst-case scenario God could have given me. If I had not met "Joe" I would have gone into that support group with the notion that I could fix everyone's problems and I could not. I could not, nor cannot, fix anyone's problems and up until that time I thought it was up to me to try. My responsibility is to bring them to Christ. Once again, the lesson was meant for me. When telling Phil about seeing the little lady, I knew that she had taught me much more than I had taught her. I don't even know if she'll ever remember me, but I will always remember this. Her appearance taught me to look at the heart. Her clothes taught me to be content. Her determination taught me to be strong. Her gait taught me to be still. Her mind taught me to be a child. Her walking taught me to stand tall. Her wave to me taught me gratitude. Her wrinkles taught me to live. Her hands taught me to work hard. Her saying "no" taught me to have a will. Her walking in the rain taught me not to complain. Her delivery taught me to be on time. Her situation taught me to be thankful. And her brown, cardboard box taught me to give. I could have easily passed her by, last Monday morning like so many people had. But I felt the Spirit telling me don't--because now I know, He wanted me to learn from this lady, who, I thought, I was there to teach.