Just Be There

Sunday did not turn out like I planned.  Bible in hand, I was just about to walk out the door for church when Olga called crying, panicky, and difficult to understand.  She said she'd fallen the day before and hurt her foot--that it was still bleeding despite her best efforts to stop it.  The last time Olga called me in a panic, her 5 year old son, Donis, was dying because his skull had been crushed by a falling boulder.  Although he's perfectly fine now, that is the kind of incident that tends to stick with you, so when she called me in a panic this time, I flew out the door, convinced that she was bleeding to death and her foot was dangling by a thread.  You can imagine my relief when I arrived and saw the injury.  I cleaned it, put some antibacterial cream on it, and pulled it closed with two band-aids while Donis sat next to me shining the light from my cell phone on it while I worked. I prayed for Olga, promised to come back to check on her another time,  and then visited a few more people since I'd missed church and was out there anyway.

When I got back home, Jessie asked me how it went so I showed her this picture.  "She called you all the way out there for that?"  Then she paused while she thought about it.  " I guess that's kind of nice.  She trusts you.  You're the Boo-Boo Fixer. The one who puts on the band-aids." And it was nice; I loved that Olga called me when she didn't know what to do.

Estela's son, Franklin. Photo added

just because he's so darn cute

I wasn't always that way.  In fact, I remember a time long ago when Estela called me screaming that her grandmother was dying and probably wouldn't even make it until I could get there but would I please come and HURRY because they needed me and, and, and...So I dropped what I was doing and drove out there like a maniac only to pull up to the house and see grandma outside playing with the grandkids. Estela explained that grandma had been in the latrine a long time with severe diarrhea and cramps, but that she was fine now. I ended up giving them a pill for parasites, bringing grandma back from the very brink of death. 🙄 Believe me, I did a LOT of eye rolling over that once I got back home.

Since that time though, God has been teaching me a lot about how to be a better ambassador. God the Father could have thought up any number of ways to save us, but He sent His Son to come right down and sit in our mess with us.  He modeled for us what it looks like to just be there. He is not an aloof God; He is our ever present help. This morning I was reading I Thessalonians 2 a bit and saw where Paul modeled the same thing.  He said, "we were gentle with you, like a nursing mother with her own children...we shared with you not only the gospel of God but our own selves." You can't share yourself if you're not there. This is "How To Be a Good Missionary 101" (or parent, friend, sibling, teacher...).

Share the gospel.

Be there.

I'm preaching to myself as I know I will spend a good bit of today waiting in a doctor's office with one of the widows who tends to annoy me.  I will be tempted to be there physically while I am mentally and emotionally a million miles away.  God, help me to not do that.  Help me to truly give her my focused attention and treat her as You would.  Help us all to learn to be more present for one another.