Go Beyond

Kolaches and breakfast tacos. That’s the reason Doyle and I found ourselves at the popular and family owned Weikel’s Bakery in  La Grange, Texas earlier this week. We were there to pick up a large order for a bunch of hungry folks at our annual staff retreat. While waiting for our order, I noticed a large photograph of a handsome young man in a football uniform on display in the bakery. His name and the date of his birth and death were printed on the photo. He was 23-years-old when he died. I turned to Doyle and said, “I wonder how that young man died.” Curious to know more, I walked over to ask one of the ladies behind the bakery counter.

Me: I couldn’t help but notice the photo of that young man in the football uniform. Who was he and how did he die?

Lady: That’s Mr. Weikel’s son. He was killed in a car accident. I think he was coming home from a football game when it happened.

Me: Oh my. I am so sorry to hear that.

Lady: Yea. He and I grew up together here in La Grange. He was a really nice guy.

And then, the lady behind the counter looked down and softly continued.

Lady: My son also died in a car accident. It happened two years ago on my birthday. He would have turned twenty this year.

And then she paused, turned her head from side to side, and continued. Two of his friends were also killed in that accident.

Me: I am so sorry for your loss. I can’t begin to imagine how painful that must have been for you.

Lady: Yea. It still hurts.

And then the lady paused, her eyes now moist, and softly said, Tomorrow is my birthday. It’s gonna be a tough day.

I spent a few more moments with her before she had to attend to another customer. As Doyle and I drove away we talked about this lady and the pain she will carry with her for the rest of her life. You just never know the kind of pain that the people you see everyday carry around inside — pain hidden behind a smile or buried so deep that no one can see it. But, it’s there. Proverbs 14:13 reminds us, “Even in laughter the heart may ache, and the end of joy may be grief.” That’s just one reason why we should try to be nice to everybody we meet. A courteous greeting, a warm smile, or an encouraging word are just some of the things that can bless those who carry heavy burdens of pain. So, the next time you look in to the eyes of the person behind the counter or in the next office or standing on a street corner, be kind to them. You just never know how God might use your kindness and concern as a soothing balm to bring a little relief and encouragement to someone in pain.

This past Friday morning, I was reminded that there are few things that can be as frightening and frustrating as getting lost in a strange place. The reminder came to me in the form of a small and elderly Chinese woman standing on the sidewalk in front of my home. When she saw me walk out my front door she earnestly motioned for me to come near. When I approached, she spoke to me in Chinese while bending to trace what looked like numbers on the sidewalk. “English?” I asked. She shook her head and continued speaking to me in Chinese. Then I remembered that I had a Mandarin Chinese language app on my iPhone and motioned for her to calm down. I tapped on the appropriate phrases and when she heard the electronic voice on my phone speak Mandarin, she smiled. We now had a basis for communication. Using my iPhone app, I managed to find out that she was lost and could not find her way back to the place where she was staying. I felt a mild sense of relief.

Step two — I asked her to type the house address into the calculator on my phone. She did. I now had a house number but no corresponding street name. When I motioned which direction to go she could not tell me. So, I invited her to get in my truck and we drove up and down every street in my subdivision. However, I could not find the house number she had given me on any of the streets near my home. And although she had a cell phone, she could not reach the person she was staying with. But, after a few more attempts, someone finally answered. It was her daughter. I explained that her mother was lost and I was trying to get her home. The daughter thanked me and gave me her home address. The house numbers that she gave me did not match those that her disoriented mother had given me. However, once I had the correct information, I punched the info into my GPS and headed to her daughter’s home. When I stopped to let the little lost lady out of the vehicle she said, “Sank you, sank you, sank you.” I smiled and said, “You’re welcome.” Then, she stood and waved as I drove away.

Someone once asked the great frontiersman Daniel Boone if he had ever been lost. Boone did not hesitate — “No, but once I was a might bewildered for a few days!” Lost or bewildered, those who have no idea where they are need someone to rescue them and show them the way home. That’s what Jesus came to do. He defined His mission in these terms — “to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). Jesus told a story about a shepherd who had one hundred sheep but went in search of one that was lost until he found it (Luke 15:4-7). And He told the story of a woman who turned her house upside down until she found a coin she had lost (Luke 15:8-10). Jesus also told the story of a father who had two sons, the younger of whom left home and lost his way. When the young man finally found his way home again, the father celebrated his return with a great feast, telling everyone who attended, “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found…” (Luke 15:24). In each case, the recovery of what had been lost resulted in rejoicing.

As Christ-followers we have a responsibility to help those who are spiritually lost or disoriented by pointing them to Jesus who is “the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). Jesus said that “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance” (Luke 15:7). I’m glad I had the opportunity to help a little Chinese lady find her way home. The joy on her face when she saw her home reminded me of a greater joy that awaits those who will one day see Jesus because we helped them to find their way home.

Sacred space is disappearing — not just for me but for all of us. It is being swallowed up by digital sprawl. With ever-increasing advancements in technology, there are few spaces that remain untouched by some form of communication. Whether we are in the car or on an airplane or in the shower, technology keeps us connected to email, internet, radio broadcasts, tunes, movies, and more. Phone apps silently push data to our digital devices, even when we are sleeping, so that we always have the world’s information close at hand. We stay connected to folks we know and barely know through various forms of social media. Twitter feeds keep us updated on the most mundane and inane things that those in our Twitter-world are doing. We snort noise like cocaine addicts and get jittery when things get too quiet. Lack of connection and digital stimulation makes us feel uncomfortable.

I am increasingly convicted about the necessity of finding sacred spaces — interruption-free zones that cannot be penetrated by the digital data and dandruff that I have grown accustomed to. I really work hard at setting aside time in which to think deeply and to reflect on the things that are stirring around in my heart. However, finding a quiet place in which to do so presents more of a challenge. That’s one reason I choose to drive rather than fly when I travel within the State. I prefer long periods of windshield time to another trip through a busy airport. I am convinced that there are riches to be found in the context of quiet and reflective periods. I wonder how many aha-moments I have missed over the years because I was too connected and therefore too distracted to see them. Unless I disconnect more often from the things that keep me tethered to technology and incessant noise, I am liable to miss more of those aha-moments that only come around every now and then.

I know that it’s not easy to disconnect, but it is vital to our sanity and survival that we learn to do so regularly. We must find and set apart as sacred those spaces that can enable us to get refreshed and recharged — places where we can enjoy a bit of solitude. We must not allow the endless noise and chatter around us to confiscate our silence. Whenever we find an opportunity to disconnect the data that can distract us, then we should do so. Only then will we have a greater opportunity to connect with the God who loves us and desires to have intimate fellowship with us. The Bible is full of examples of ordinary people and prophets who gained greater understanding and perspective on their times because they spent time with God in silent places. So, let’s heed the advice of Zephaniah, one of those prophets, who said, “Be silent before the Lord God!” (Zeph. 1:7). That was good advice then and it’s good advice now. Find and guard your own sacred spaces and discover the riches that grow in the soil of silence.

Jean Béliveau returned home after eleven long years, concluding a remarkable 46-thousand-mile journey around the world — on foot! Seeking to escape the pain of losing his small business, Béliveau decided to run around the world. He set off on his great adventure at 9:00 AM on August 18, 2000, his 45th birthday. Béliveau ran all the way from his Montreal home to Atlanta, Georgia. After arriving in Atlanta, he slowed his pace and decided to walk the rest of the way around the world, a journey that would take him across 64 countries. Pushing a three-wheeled stroller containing a tent, sleeping bag, clothing, and a First Aid kit, Béliveau traveled with little or no money, depending instead on the kindness of those he met along the way to sustain him. And, he turned his pain into purpose by walking to promote peace and non-violence for the children of the world.

Béliveau’s journey is nothing short of remarkable. He walked across crowded urban areas and long stretches of lonely miles, across deserts and mountains, through all types of weather. Along the way he met thousands from among the world’s nations, tribes, peoples, and languages. As a result, Béliveau came home with a better understanding of the folks who share our planet and more determined than ever to be an ambassador for peace. He understands that “we may never have peace but if we take one step forward, and then another” he thinks “we can create a better world together.” Idealistic? Perhaps. But, at the core, I think he is right. Promoting better understanding among the peoples of the world must begin by taking intentional steps toward others so that we must look them in the face and notice the color of their eyes.

I think it’s a good thing that Béliveau decided to walk instead of to run. One of the things I often have to remind myself to do is to walk slowly among the people, just like Jesus. Walking slowly among the people makes it easier for us to develop peripheral compassion and to notice the things that are happening to our right and to our left, in the blurry shadows of our peripheral vision. Walking slowly makes it much easier for us to see those who are hurting or in need and to hear their desperate cries. Only then are we more likely to respond in a compassionate and timely way with the balm of love and encouragement that can make all the difference in a hurting person’s life. I don’t know whether Béliveau is a Christ-follower, but I do believe that Christ-followers can learn from him by walking slowly and intentionally among the people. Consider slowing down a bit in order to notice and to get to know the people in your world.