The Familiar Stranger

           You drive hurriedly to work running five minutes behind schedule.  In one hand, you hold your favorite coffee.  Your other hand steers the car in and out of traffic, all the while nervously tapping your thumb on the wheel like a pressure valve slowly releasing the built up frustration inside.  You wish the traffic would just move faster!

On the side of the road, a man stands beside his car watching the traffic zoom past with a set of jumper-cables in his hands.  “Poor guy,” you think to yourself, “I wish I had time to help…Oh well, someone else will give him a hand.”  You drive on glancing in your rearview mirror.  The man catches your eye in the reflection.  Something about his posture looks strangely familiar; unable to put a finger on it, you drive on giving no further thought to the unfortunate stranger.

Arriving at work, a woman down on her luck asks for a handout.  Annoyed by the delay, you create a lie, “sorry, I don’t have anything to give you.”  As you walk inside, the wind catches the door; turning to pull it shut, you make eye contact with this woman in unfortunate circumstances.  Something in her eyes reminds you of someone you know.  You rush on, however, to reach the time-clock before it counts you late.

Along the way, you see a co-worker sitting alone with his face buried in his hands, clearly distraught.  “I wonder what’s wrong,” you think, wishing you could answer your own question, “maybe I will find out at the break.”  You walk on quickly opening the office door; the glass in the door reflects the image of your co-worker.  This time, something about his hands reminds you of the homeless woman and the stranded commuter.

Immobilized by this eerie feeling, you turn your head slowly hoping to remain unnoticed.  Upon closer inspection, you see the scars on his wrists; the same scars owned by the woman and the stranded motorist—puncture wounds, deep and round.  Suddenly, an intense flood of emotion rushes over you.  Uncertain of what to feel; you collapse into a nearby chair as you recognize these familiar strangers.  Each one is Jesus.

Jesus said, "whatever you do to the least of these, you do to me."  Today, look for Jesus in the people you encounter.  You never know where you may come across this familiar stranger.

Considering Lilies

It was a beautiful early Spring afternoon a number of years ago.  I thought it would be the perfect day to burn some paper trash in the barrel behind the house.  Having just come through some challenging life situations, this time served as a moment of deep reflection and prayer as I enjoyed the country surroundings.

After getting the fire going, I went inside to get some more paper.  A glimpse out the back window revealed the field ablaze and quickly spreading.  Urging my wife to call the fire department, I flew out the door.  Straight to the garden hose I ran, turned on the water, dragged it to the edge of the fire, and squeezed the nozzle only to find there was no water pressure.  Next came plan B: scurry to the shed for a shovel.  The shed was locked.  So, I turned to the house searching for the key, ran to the shed, unlocked the door, grabbed the shovel, ran to the fire, and started beating at the flames with all my might.

The pattern continued:  beat the flames, flee from the smoke to catch my breath, beat the flames, flee to catch my breath...  The flames continued spreading toward the barn.  I prayed, swung my shovel, and prayed some more.  Eventually, with much of the field consumed, the fire truck arrived, and the firefighters extinguished the remaining flames.

As the excitement waned, I walked around to inspect the damage.  The field remained completely charred and reduced to stubble (did I mention that this happened on Ash Wednesday?).  Thankfully, the barn was spared, but only by a margin of less than two feet surrounding three of its sides.

In a strange way, I found myself identifying with that field as I too was feeling burned out, burned up, and burned by some life circumstances from the preceding months.  As the Spring continued, the field began showing glimpses of life as tiny green nubs started pushing their way through the stubble.  At the same time, God's gentle presence continued healing and growing me.

As summer approached, my brief six month interim position was coming to a close.  Although I was experiencing a great healing within, the stress was increasing due to the uncertainty of the very near future.  The field continued to grow greener and taller.  Eventually, the plants revealed themselves as bright orange day lily blossoms covered the previously desolate backyard.

The unexpected Ash Wednesday observance served as the start to a beautiful parable of my then recent events.  Its meaning came as I reflected upon Jesus' words when He said, “Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin.  Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!  And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it.  For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them.  But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well" (Luke 12:27-31).

God has a unique way of taking the damaged and desolate things of this life and making them into something beautiful as we experience God's loving care.

For more reflections on this theme, please click on "Destinatum -- Steve's Art Gallery" to the right.