Offering hope for the journey
Rulers menace, people protest, wars threaten—and God is still on His throne. All is under His control and subservient to His rule. His power is unlimited, His timing deliberate, and His purposes indisputable. God sees all and rules with the same power and sovereignty He displayed in Creation and at the Cross. In His throne room there is no panic, no Plan B, no hand-wringing, only peace and purpose.
Let us declare, here and now, in our hearts and in our homes, “No fear here.”
The Good Samaritan, part 2
We lived on a hill in Midland Park. Most residents do. You only need to walk five minutes out the door to find yourself going uphill or down. This is an important element to my story.
Our son David did not have the mental acuity or physical dexterity to ride a bike so we bought him an adult tricycle. The slope of our driveway challenged him—he coasted down but he couldn’t pedal back up. Though his ability was limited, he enjoyed his trike and stayed within the parameters of the driveway—until the day he didn’t.
Did I mention we lived on a hill? He turned out of the driveway but only went six feet when his bike began to roll back. David put his feet down to stop the momentum but his skinny little leg got trapped between the pedal and the bike. I couldn’t roll him forward and I didn’t have the strength to pull the pedal away from the frame. Since the neighborhood men were at work, I called the police, hoping they would be able to pull out pedal and release David’s leg.
Flashing red lights announced their arrival and, though they gave it their best effort, they couldn’t budge the pedal. So they called the fire department. Two engines arrived with sirens blaring and more flashing lights. One pulled up behind the police car, the other blocked the end of the road. Neighbors came running from surrounding streets to see what tragedy befell us. And then the ambulance came!
The arrival of each emergency vehicle increased David’s tears—and his sister’s laughter. I sent her inside so onlookers didn’t think poorly of us. Then David got a nose bleed. As I held a wad of tissues to his face, an officer informed me they were sending for the jaws of life.
The powerful tool cut through the pedal’s thick metal shaft and David was set free. One by one the emergency vehicles left—except the ambulance. With one inch indentations on each side of his leg, the first responders strongly recommended David go the ER. The ambulance delivered us to the hospital where we thankfully learned there was no injury.
Now I come to the point of my story.
The next morning a neighbor came to our door and explained she would not allow her daughter Sarah outside during our fiasco because neighbors shouldn’t stare—they should care. Could they please bring David’s tricycle to a bike shop to be repaired? They hauled the heavy trike into the back of their SUV and returned it a few days later, having borne the burden and paid the expense.
This incident came to mind with clarity last week as I reflected on the parable of the Good Samaritan. Like the man in the story, our neighbor had a responsive heart. She inconvenienced herself to care for us and our provide for our need.
Do you remember Jesus’ words at the end of the parable? “Go and do likewise” (Luke 10:37).
Finding Hope, 65 Meditations for a Broken Heart
When asked, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus told this parable:
A man was left by the roadside, robbed and beaten, bloody and helpless. Two men saw him there. They were religious men, schooled in the Torah, serving at the synagogue. They each crossed the street to walk on the other side, eyes averted, robes clean and unsoiled. They not only scorned the bleeding victim but also the man who followed behind them, a Samaritan.
The Samaritan was deemed inferior, not good enough for the religious men or worthy of their attention. But—he stopped to help the beaten man. He did not avoid him by crossing to the other side, but stooped to bind his wounds. And then he went the extra mile, figuratively and literally. He lifted the injured man to his own donkey and brought him to an inn, promising to return and pay any expenses his patient may incur.
As familiar as I am with this parable, it touched me anew. I stopped reading and confessed my reticence to be inconvenienced.
Everyone is our neighbor and we are all expected to be first responders. We are all called to show “Samaritan” mercy. Jesus ends His parable in Luke 10:37 with these words,
“Go and do likewise.”
God, give us responsive hearts.
Finding Hope, 65 Meditations for a Broken Heart
I didn’t expect my original “Bucket” post to multiply, but it has! I do believe this is the last of four and I don’t think you’ll be thanking me for embedding this song in your head, but here goes. My husband actually suggested this to me and, after quickly dismissing it, I found I couldn’t let the thought (or the melody) go.
Poor Henry faces a problem of inordinate proportions when he discovers a hole in his bucket. Stymied, he turns to Liza for advice. It seems pretty obvious to her, but each step she offers leads to a new complication. Henry exasperates Liza and never does fix his bucket—you certainly couldn’t call Henry a go-getter.
I began to think about the holes in my bucket and wondered if, like Henry, I lack the determination to plug them up and content myself with living a leaky existence. You may identify with some of these holes.
Friends, this is a brief look at the peril of having a hole in our bucket. To myself, and all the other Henrys out there, I quote Liza, “Well, fix it dear Henry, dear Henry fix it!”
Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise. Ephesians 5:15
*This song was first published in Germany around 1700.
Photo by Lucas van Oort on Unsplash
BARBARA HIGBY 