Today will Never come again.
Be a blessing. Be a friend. Encourage someone.
Take time to care. Let your words heal, and not wound.
Today will Never come again.
~*~*~*~*~
I’d only seen her once or twice, the woman who lived next door. From a distance, I could read pain in her face and a life that has been too tough and left too many scars. Sometimes, when we passed her on our road, it seemed like she was in another world, a world created by drugs and alcohol and abuse. When I waved, sometimes all I got was a blank stare, sometimes she never even looked.
But she caught at my heart, and I wondered what her story was and if she had anyone to care what path she took.
Then she went away. Left in her run down brown car, and only came back once in a while to pick up a cat or to walk around the house once or twice. I thought she’d moved away and no one lived there anymore. I guess they don’t.
But two days ago, I was walking up the hill to the mailbox when I saw her standing in the rain. For the first time, she waved when she saw me, and when I walked by started to talk. It was pouring rain, and she looked a little strange. It is hard to know how much to risk with a stranger, but that moment, I knew I had to stop.
Her keys were locked in her trunk, and no amount of pushing or prying on either of our parts could budge the lock or pick it open. And while I tried to pick the lock, she stood beside me and poured out some of her heart. Looking into her face, I saw the same scars that I’d seen at a distance. I saw the hard lines and yet I saw beautiful blue eyes that craved love. I saw a broken, lonely woman who needed someone to care enough to stop. She needed someone to listen.
I didn’t get the trunk open. I didn’t talk about my LORD and Savior. I didn’t pray with her, but I prayed for her, every moment that I stood there. I didn’t even catch her name.
But I caught a little glimpse of her heart. Behind all those layers, she wasn’t so different from me. Why do we hesitate so much to reach out and touch? Why are we so afraid to listen and to love?
I walked home wet and with a full heart. Wishing I could do more, wondering if I did enough, praying that what I could not do, God would keep doing.
I may not see her again, but I will remember her eyes for a long time. I’ll remember the fragment of her heart that I saw. I will remember that sometimes, touching the world starts with something as small as reaching out to the lonely woman who use to live next door. I’ll remember that sometimes, the greatest sermons aren’t preached, but acted.
Every day I pray that God will use my little bit of life to be a blessing. Every day, I ask Him to keep me humble, and to let me see the world through His eyes. Often, I am afraid of what He asks me to stop for. It cuts close to my heart, and sometimes causes me pain. But through the pain, I see a little more clearly what Love is, and how much I need this Love. I don’t have it on my own.
So, I’ll think of her, and remember that only through loving and touching can we reach the World. And only by His grace can my feeble efforts to love be worth anything…anything at all.
