Monday, June 9, 2014

Love Creates Margin for Magic to Happen

I started my blog for this week....yesterday.  I've been wrestling with just stopping mid-stream and starting over, BUT, I have a P.S. to add to last week's entry.  So, I'll save what's done; stop; start again with what is normally an ending.  Here's to the P.S. and, then, a story to follow.

P.S. Not only must we take advantage of the NOW and love to the fullest, because time is short; Christians must be intentional and create space to do love in the NOW.

Paul goes on in Ephesians 5 and tells us, as believers, to "be careful how you live, not as unwise men, but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil (Eph. 5:15-16)." The need to love is great, not only because time is short, but the days can be hurtful (another way to translate that word, evil). We never know what the day ahead will bring.  Life is full of hurts, trials of a various nature, and there must be intentionality to our time, allowing room for margin, so we can stop, when necessary and do love.

My story.

Yesterday, I experienced a Good Samaritan moment. It was HUGE for me; I just wish this were a story where I was the hero, where I came through as the lover; but alas...

I was in the Big City for a wedding. When in the Big City, you do Big City things, like go to Costco. So, that's exactly what I did. I went with my list - a long list (Have I ever mentioned how much I hate to shop? I'd rather brush my teeth with vinegar.) However, I got all my shopping finished. I'd checked out. Things were going smoothly, and I was hitting my target time to leave, so I'd be back in Pagosa before dark. All was good, but you can probably tell there is a "however" to come...

One of the items on our list was a new barbecue/smoker thingy. We'd called ahead and ordered it; so, it was shrink wrapped and waiting at the front of the store. The lady had promised Costco-men would not only load it for me, they'd make sure it was tied down and safe for the 4 hour drive back to Pagosa. Not so. When we got to the truck, the three young men who picked it up and planted it in the back of my truck said, "Oh no! Once we put it on your vehicle, we can't touch it. It's the LAW (well, they used the words, "Against our policy.")  Let me add here, they were supposed to lay it down on it's back, as well; but NO, they couldn't do that, either.  So, here I am, needing to tie this thing down, so it won't blow out of the back of my truck on the long, winding, mountain road home. I've never been a good tie-it-down-girl. Everything in me resisted. I didn't even know where to begin, and I didn't want to start. Those words "I didn't want to" are key...I  didn't want any part of any of it. So, I pushed back. I didn't get angry; I just wallowed. Wallowed is mild. I simply shut down.

Somehow, I moved my feet, and made my hands work, but the rest of me was totally uninvolved, and I remember tears leaked down my face (it could have been sweat, but, naw, it was tears...and I'm really not a cry-over-something-like-this person). Somewhere I found the sense to cut into a package of heavy duty ratchet straps that was on the list for Bay. I'd never used a ratchet strap before, but somehow I made one work. After 1 1/2 hours, in 96 degree heat, in the back of my truck, in wedding-dress-attire, I had the barbecue "set." That's when a Good Samaritan walked by...  He took one look at my load, asked where I was headed, and said, "Lady, that will never stay put for your drive."  So, Mr. Good Samaritan, stopped on his Saturday afternoon, climbed in the back of my Ridgeline, and undid everything I had just done (Twice! Twice I'd tied down, and re-tied that grill! The first go around was my education. Second time, I thought I did fairly well. Obviously, I failed.)

I'll take a minute to describe Mr. Good Samaritan. Just like the story in Luke's gospel, I was passed multiple times by Priests and Levites (metaphorically speaking). Just like the story, they all walked to the other side of the road to avoid my plight. No, it was the unexpected man who helped me... This guy swore like a sailor (actually, I don't know how sailors swear, or if they really do, but since I've heard that expression, it seems appropriate here). He was "rough" to say the least. I just prayed he wouldn't get upset, and use the big chain he wore on his low-slung pants, to take out his frustration on me. I think you get the picture. When he was through, the barbecue was more secure than it had been. When he was through, I felt like we were family (odd, how trials bind people). Even his girl friend hugged me.  It took him an extra 45 minutes out of his day, his FREE AFTERNOON, to come to my aid.

There's still more to the story. Oh no, the saga didn't end here, but this is enough to get my point across. My typical scenario is rush-rush. My time is generally scheduled to the fullest. I rarely leave any room for asking the Jesus questions, "Is there someone I can show love to in my world right here, right now?" "Is there someone who is lonely? Is there anyone who doesn't fit in?" I'm seldom in a position where I can be helpful, because I haven't planned any room in my time for margin, in order to be a Good Samaritan. Bob Goff has a book entitled, Love Does. That's the thing about love, it is a VERB. The days bring hardship, and trials, to all of us. We need each other. Love does. When we DO love, we are being Jesus.

Goff also says that love leaves room for whimsy.  I like that word.  Probably, I like it, because there is something magical about it. Whimsy isn't really intentional. Whimsy simply happens. I miss a lot of whimsical moments in my life. I miss them, because I don't make room for them. That's where planning ahead helps whimsy take place.  When I create space for Good Samaritan moments, I allow for the magical to transform someone else's day, and who knows, maybe their life! For sure, we help create family. Some might call that community.

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