Be Ready

It was Wednesday, late afternoon. We headed out the door, down the block and around the corner to our car (darn construction in our block), with a bag of tortilla chips and a container of hummus in hand for the potluck that would following the evening worship service. We weren't late, but with rush hour traffic, you never know how long it takes for the drive to church.

As I unlocked the car door, a boy, maybe 11 or 12, stopped on the sidewalk next to the car. "Sir...," he started.  That took me off guard. I don't remember the last time a preteen addressed me so formally. I assumed that he was going to ask for directions or if I had seen his lost dog. Instead, he asked for a couple of dollars so he could buy a soda and a bag of chips.

That's not an uncommon request from strangers in our small city and usually I am prepared with one of my regular thought-out responses. This time, my mind froze. I reached for my wallet and mumbled something about not usually giving out cash as I handed him two dollars. He thanked me and continued down the sidewalk. We got in the car and drove off. As the encounter replayed in my mind, my mind mixed questions and a compilation of possible, more appropriate responses. 

• When did kids in our city start panhandling?
• Where are his parents?
• I could have walked back to the house and put together a healthy meal for him. 
• What if a teen or adult is using him to get drug money?
• There's the convenience store a block away. I could have gone with him and paid for a snack.
• Why did I even mention that I don't usually give cash? That comment was of no benefit to him.
• I could have offered him the corn chips and hummus, but then what would we have taken for the potluck?
• There's a granola bar or two in the glove box that we keep on hand for such times as these. Why didn't I think of that?
• Does this boy not have any food in his house? 
• Why didn't I take a few minutes with this boy instead of hurrying off?
• I want to be the Good Samaritan, not the priest and Levite.

Some days, I specifically ask God to bring me people who need something that I can give (and to bring me people who have what I need, as I'm learning about the two-way street of generosity). Most days, I have opportunities to interact with multiple people.

The request from the boy reminded me that I need to be ready for the people who come my way. Ready, not in the sense of having prepackaged responses to dish out, but a readiness to see people and situations in an unrushed way. I need to learn to take time to listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and respond appropriately. Just as Jesus interacted uniquely with each person He met (from smearing mud on a blind man's eyes to initially refusing to heal a foreigner's daughter), so may I stop, see, listen, and give to each person who God sends my way. 

Maybe the couple of dollars was what the boy needed most on Wednesday afternoon. Maybe what I needed most was a polite preteen to remind me to be ready for the next person who asks me for something I can give.