Ironically, the thing that spurred today's blog entry was a podcast. (Shout out to Jennie Allen for being cooler than me.) I was loading dirty dishes into the dishwasher when these words pierced through the air:
"Lay down the inferiority you feel when you think about purpose."
I don't know when Ms. Jennie had recorded these words, and she doesn't know me, so there's no way she knew that just the day before I had read this account in 1 Kings:
7 Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. 8 Then the word of the Lord came to him: 9 “Go at once to Zarephath in the region of Sidon and stay there. I have directed a widow there to supply you with food.” 10 So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” 11 As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.” 12 “As surely as the Lord your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little olive oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it—and die.” 13 Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. 14 For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land.’” 15 She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. 16 For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the Lord spoken by Elijah.(1 Kings 17:7-16)Jennie also didn't know that earlier this morning, a lady's vehicle had been brought to a stall in the middle of the road directly in front of my house.
Some background information for you:
-I drop off my kids in my pajamas. Every day. Not sorry about it.
-I have never helped a broken down motorist.
-I don't know anything about cars or car gadgets.
-My husband is deployed. He has lovingly prepped me with all kinds of useful things in the garage before he left, and I SWEAR I LISTENED, but I have since forgotten all the things he'd told me.
-I'm a crazy mess.
So as I approached my house this morning, I waited behind her stalled car for a solid minute, thinking "Hmm this is weird," before I finally boxed around her car and turned into my driveway. I hopped out of the car in all my pajama-pantsed glory as a woman exited her vehicle.
She had run out of gas. In the legitimate middle of the road, one block away from the elementary school, and God had her run out of gas *right in front of my house.* Me. The lady whose car and people skills equate to one handful of flour...
But I had a little gas in a jug.
Unfortunately, this crazy lady could not remember from her husband's briefing a few months earlier whether it was regular or diesel. I tried calling him, but couldn't get through. No worries, though--I could just go to the gas station for a new can!
I told her I'd be right back, and left for the station. I looked and looked, but no gas cans. I asked the lady behind the counter and she retrieved the *last one* at the store for me. This was feeling meant to be!
I filled 'er up and headed back to the house. This expedition had taken me longer than expected, and I wondered if she'd even still be there, but she was. Cars going past her left and right.
I came back out of the car and raised the gas can in victory! Hooray!!
Unfortunately, the newfangled spill-proof gas cans they're making these days are the devil's work, and we could not figure out how to get the gas to dispense out. We were out there struggling for at least 10 minutes, cars going around us left and right. (Defeat. Boo.)
At just the right time, my next door neighbor looked out the window and saw us struggling, and I got a text from my husband. The neighbor also struggled with the devil can, giving me slight validation. And my husband let me know that it was indeed regular gas in our can (probably for the fifth time now) and I converted the contents of the newfangled devil can into the proper relic. It probably took me an hour to do what could have been done in 15 minutes, but she was able to drive away. (And I was able to keep my word. Bonus!)
This was a little thing I was asked to do. I mean, it turned into a big ordeal because I'm me and I make all things more difficult than they need to be, but truly, it was a small deed.
Yet, let me tell you all the things I was thinking when I was called to serve this woman brought to my house today:
-I don't know what to do.
-I don't know if this is the right thing to help.
-I don't know where to find the thing to help.
-This person might no longer need my help.
-I don't know how to use the thing to help.
-I feel like I'm not helping.
-I wish someone else would help.
**All of this self-doubt and second-guessing for a small, self-explanatory thing, y'all!**
The widow's call was worlds bigger than mine, without a doubt. (And I am NOT selling her faith and obedience short, so please don't think that!) But it is strange to imagine that at the end of the day, the Lord brought someone to her house asking for bread, and she could have been bombarded with the feelings of inferiority I had when someone asked me for gas.
Don't do that.
Don't let "devil cans" or the devil make you think that what you can do is not good enough.
That generosity in any amount is ever small.
That if it doesn't help a big group, then it's somehow not helpful.
That if the impact isn't big, then it must not be important.
I think so many of us are searching for ways to make a big difference, but we end up driving left and right around the assignment that's right in front of our face. Don't do that either.
I'm thankful this assignment came to my front door today, because if I'm honest, I probably would have missed it otherwise. I'm thankful for the help of the cashier and my neighbor and my husband. I'm thankful to serve a God who shows us big lessons in humble moments. And I'm thankful I still get taught lessons, even if they always seem to happen the hard way.
And for Jennie Allen's podcast :) ***************************The End. For now :)
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