(Image via Pinterest; originally from lisacongdon.com?)
I love comfort. I don’t like change, except maybe new knowledge or skills. Like a pebble in a stream, I want to find the perfect angle of repose, resting on the peaceful part of a gentle curve or at the bottom of a deep pool. But I am learning that my desire for quiet evenings wrapped in a soft blanket aren’t the best ground for my personal growth. It’s really in the extremities of my comfort zone that the Lord shows me what to do. Visiting, reaching out, praying for others besides myself, and being out of my comfortable house are my small sacrifices to gain the gift of charity. This enormous gift of charity is not proportional to my sacrifice, and it’s essential to the work.
A rock in the gentle part of the stream will become slimy, covered in algae, and certainly less beautiful as it just blends in to its surroundings. A rock, tumbling down the stream becomes smooth, clean, and beautiful. It may not be at rest; it may not be comfortable; but a tumbling pebble is moving forward with strength beyond its own. I am learning the ways of a tumbling pebble through some bumps, surges in speed, and lots of discomfort.
My goal is to reach out to someone every day. I knock on doors that I am pretty sure will not open. Sometimes it takes all my will to be brave and make a call or go to an event. I am not always successful, but I keep seeing that it’s in my extremity that I can be most helpful.
One day last week I had one unexpected hour without kids. I loaded my car with a few notes and papers to deliver. During this hour I was invited in to visit at two different houses. I learned that someone was in need of food and I helped with that. I prayed with someone. I saw the miracle of my time becoming magnified. I walked out of the second house the very minute I needed to get home to my kids, without needing to tell the person I was in a hurry. Later that evening, I felt like I needed to deliver one more thing. Once again I didn’t have much time, and I had already been out visiting, but I walked out of the house anyway. Immediately the person I saw said, “I was hoping I could talk to you. I just found out we need some help…. ”
I fail more than I succeed, but I can see that it’s truly the Lord that guides and fuels this work of helping others. And that lesson is much better than my limited, comfortable version of the good life.