Grandma's Boo-boo

Sorry I missed a couple days - just needed a little rest (my brain mostly).  I did this sketch based on a true event...

A week or so ago hubby wasn't feeling up to par and he went to bed early.  When I went to bed later I did not turn on a light so as not to wake hubby.  Big. Mistake.

Earlier that day I'd been folding clothes and putting them away - but failed to close a dresser drawer. You guessed it.  I ran into it in the dark...twice....!  Yeah...it's complicated.   (But I didn't wake up hubby, but I scared the dog.)

Anyway I wound up with a technicolor shin bone and two big scrapes.  Fast forward a couple days to Sunday.  Grandkids were here.  My oldest grandson (22 mo) had a sore finger which he showed me. I promptly kissed it for him.   Then I showed him my shin bone.  He looked at me with his big blue eyes then leaned over and kissed my sore leg.

It touched my heart so deeply.   He recognized a hurt and quickly did what he thought would help.
I started thinking about it.  When we see hurting people, do we quickly respond with what can help?  Or do we have to discuss it in our mind, debate what is the correct course of action to meet the need, and then assume that we aren't equipped, or someone else will handle it, or the person might reject our assistance or take offense?

Fast forward to the grocery store - a cashier (we'll call her Sue) was having an obviously bad day.  While I was waiting for my turn, I had that little conversation in my head...not wanting to become involved for fear of not having the right words, or being told to butt out.   When it was my turn to check out  Sue said robotically, "Hi, how are you?"   I responded, "I'm okay.  But it sounds like you're having a tough day."   She immediately teared up and told me she got a call from her sitter telling her her daughter was very sick.  She had tried to get off - but her manager said no because there was no one else to cover.

Have you ever not responded to someone who was hurting? It is easy to help little children, or family members.  But, what about acquaintances or even strangers. How many times have I just said, "oh- I'm so sorry to hear"  and walked away not doing what I knew would  help?  Why do we not invoke the Name of the One who CAN help in all things?  Fear?  Embarrassment?  Shame?

James 4:17 says, "Therefore, to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin."  If someone were drowning would we debate about throwing a life ring?

I reached over to Sue and laid my hand on top of hers and said, "Lord, be with Sue's little girl and help Sue to be able to get off early. Amen."   It took about 5 seconds.  I squeezed her hand and said "it's going to be okay."  She teared up again and nodded.  I had a large order and she proceeded to check me out without saying anything.   As I was paying my bill the manager came over.  She told Sue, 'I called so-and-so...she said she'd come in.  She'll be here in about 20 minutes if you can wait until then.'  Sue nodded to her manager and then turned to me and said 'thank you.'  I smiled and said, "God is good."

Make a difference today - demonstrate God's compassion.
Laura
On a personal note - there is a friend of mine whose son is going to have a 4th brain surgery for severe epilepsy.  There medical expenses are huge as is their lodging while at the hospital.  Please pray for their needs.  There is also a fund raising site for them, if you could help it would be such a blessing.  More of their story is on my other blog http://grandmamiller.wordpress.com/2013/09/18/grandmas-boo-boo-helping-renn/

Carrots of Affection

This rabbit doodle I did in May made me recall a 'carrot' God used to teach me a lesson.  It was about 24 years ago when we lived in a subdivision in Burton, Michigan.

Across the street lived Jenny.  She was a scrawny little girl, usually wearing grimy clothes.  She had stringy hair, dirty fingernails and was all elbows, bony knees and big brown eyes.  She was the youngest in a large family.  Her parents were in their very late 40s.

Many times I observed Jenny walking bare foot on a chilly day or riding her big wheeled bike out into the street. No parent ever came to call her in or tell her to stay on the sidewalk. So with my baby in tow I would go out and tell her to get back on the sidewalk or go in and get shoes.

One summer day when our daughter was about four, Jenny (5), came over to our yard and asked to play. I never let our daughter play at Jenny's because  I was afraid there would be no supervision.  So that day the girls played on our front porch.   I went back in the house to begin supper keeping an eye on the girls.  I peeled some carrots and started slicing them.   I took some carrot sticks outside and handed my daughter some.  Then I reached over and gave some to Jenny.

Jenny looked at me with her mouth open.  I thought she was going to tell me she didn't like carrots.  She started to walk away and then turned back.  She wrapped her arms around my legs and hips, knocking me back a bit.  Just as quickly she was gone.  She never said thank you, but the message was clear.   My breath caught in my throat.   Carrots.   I hadn't given her ice cream, or chocolate, just plain carrots.   Yet those carrots somehow touched her.  Was she that starved for affection?

I made it a point to let Jenny come over more often.  She was a bit domineering and not shy to use bribery and coercion to get what she wanted from our daughter.  But I tried to treat her as one of mine.  If she needed hugging I hugged.  If she needed scolding I did it gently.  Sadly we moved away in August of that year.  I've often wondered what became of her.

This morning when remembering the carrot story - I realized I had been withholding love from this little child because she wasn't from 'my kind' of household.  I was always reserved about mingling with Jenny.  God had to use a carrot to hit me over the head and remind me that this child was His.  That she needed love and affection the same as my children.

Do we sometimes withhold ourselves from others because they are different?  Do we hold back from making new friendships?  Do we fail to call someone to say we're thinking about them, or miss them?  Do we keep from praying with someone, or telling someone that God can help?Someone may not be physically hungry, but they may be starving for a bit of attention, a crumb of affection.

 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:

I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?

Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.   (Matthew 25:42-45)

May you find time today for the least of these,
Laura.