A cup of cold water

My husband is much more generous than I.  I need to take more opportunities to learn from him.

After Easter service and chatting with our friends (and a fellow we'll call Bill who goes to our church, who looks a little....  Hmmmm.....  Not so well off), Derek informed me I should go get the kids while he took Bill to the car so we could give him a ride.

"WHAT?!?!"  I thought.  "We are going to take a man we do not know, in our car, WITH OUR CHILDREN, someplace?"

  I took a breath.  It's Easter.  I have seen this man week after week at church.  He is not a new face, but I don't know him.  What will our children think of this man in a purple suit with the matching hat and wild hair? 

I was concerned about safety.  I was concerned about time.  Although, in reality, I was concerned about myself.  I needed to remind myself I see this man nearly every week and am grateful the church welcomes him as he is every week.  No expectations.  No questions asked.  Why can't I? 

I picked up the children from their Sunday School rooms.  I explained we would be giving Bill a ride.  I climbed into the car and squeezed between the boys carseats.  Bill told stories about the history of Ohio.  The boys talked about his "fancy" purple hat.  Erick and Blake both shared some candy they had gotten in their class.  We had plenty of time for our egg hunt and Easter baskets before heading out for a larger family lunch.  Everything was fine.  Why did I worry so?  Derek had seen Bill when he had started college and knew Bill had been homeless at least at one point; perhaps he still is. 

Derek reminded me to give when we can.  My selfishness often gets in the way of this.  It was only a ride.  I need to remember to offer a cup of water to those in need. How many times am I actually drinking that cup of water anyway? 

Suffering with God

I had a moment the other day.  A public moment.  Part of me felt humiliated.  Part of me felt like the rest of the world (or 22 people) needed to hear it.  In all honesty.

We were in our Sunday school class talking about suffering.  Why do Christians suffer?  What do we do about it?  How do we pray about it?

I listened to some answers about how we can pray for wisdom.  We can pray for peace.  We can pray to listen.  And here's what I said:  "When we were struggling with infertility all I could do was ask God 'Why?'  I didn't understand any of what was going on.  I just needed to be angry and come to Him.  And I think He wants me to do that. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change anything or give my boys back.  Feeling like I can be honest enough and trust Him enough to go to Him with tears and anger....."

I broke down if front of friends and felt somewhat like a fool.

I'm not even sure if my infertility was suffering or an answer to prayer about allowing us to adopt.  It still was terrible at the time, because I wanted to be a mom, NOW.  That was my plan.  

There are only so many people in our lives we can trust to yell at them and know that person will still be there.  I'm glad God is one of them.  I know I am not immune to suffering.  Trials will come again.  I will be able to yell and cry and let all my raw emotions bleed in front of Him.  God will be there through it all, and He will hold me in His arms.  May my hope always rest in Him, no matter the suffering I may need to endure.