In Training

This past weekend, I was in downtown Indianapolis by myself attending a Women of Joy conference with over 6,000 other women, none of which I knew. I had to push through several difficult things with my thoughts that were NOT currently being “brought into captivity unto the obedience of Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5).

First, the weather report was not good, and major thunderstorms were predicted. My husband prayed with me before I left on my two-and-a-half hour drive for peace through the storms. I prayed for no storms until I got there.  Thankfully, and so very gratefully, God heard my earnest prayers, and I had barely a sprinkling the entire trip.

Then there is the driving in the city part. I have a lot of angst about city driving, especially when I do not have a clue where I am going.  I managed to keep nailing my anxious thoughts to the cross right up until I made it to the valet parking area. Yes, the extra $6.00 plus tip were worth it to not have to get back into my car to find the self-parking garage. The only thing I could think of at the time was, “We aren’t in Kansas anymore, Toto!”

I wasn’t worried about not knowing anyone, although it was pretty weird having dinner on my own. I knew I was there to learn, to be listening, and hearing God. And frankly, I did a poor job of it much of the time. That actually surprised me, because I knew I was sent for training purposes. I really thought I was ready to receive the training. I wasn’t.

At dinner, my waiter’s name was Jacob. He  was a very endearing young man. The first thing out of his mouth when he realized I was dining alone was, “I would love to be able to do what you’re doing. Bless your heart!”  I knew that I wanted to bless HIS heart, so I told him that I have a new practice that I will be asking my wait staff how I might pray for them. I also, sheepishly admitted, he was my first.

He was quite astounded, and I told him to think about it while he brought my drink. He kept checking back with me, telling me he was “still thinking.”  I thought I’d heard a word for him. It was “trust your gut.” So I told him. He didn’t know what it meant, but wondered if it was something that was about to happen. I hadn’t considered that possibility, because I was expecting him to instantly resonate with this “word from the Lord.”

Feeling unsettled, I thought I heard that I was to leave him a $50.00 tip. I asked again, because right now my finances aren’t where I have been expecting them to be. I have sown into various moving ministries, and haven’t yet received my promised abundance. Knowing the meager amount in my checkbook and the bills yet to be paid, I asked a third time.  Really, $50.00?  I heard, “want to make it $100.00?”  I smiled, and obediently wrote out the tip for $50.00, and wrote, “trust your gut” beside it. I have no idea if this was God or not, but, heck, I’m in training, so I was encouraged. That is until…

I hadn’t been in a large city’s downtown for many years. I had forgotten what homelessness looks like. The pit of my stomach still aches for these people on the streets. I wanted to hear their stories. I wanted to know why they were there, but I walked past them without making eye–contact, thinking, “If I help one, don’t I have to help them all? How do I do that?”  It was easier to not see them. So, I walked by, pretending I didn’t see them. But I did. They were not invisible to me, yet, all the others around me walked right on by as well. Their conversations didn’t stop, they seemed oblivious to the pain and suffering. I was miserably trying to hear what to do, all the while thinking, “how can I fix any of this?”

The conference was amazing. If you have never been in a large group setting where everyone is worshipping together, you really need to do so. There are no words to explain what being in the Presence is like. In our Sunday School materials this week we read the analogy between using words to describe the Presence like taking a Polaroid snapshot of the Grand Canyon at night, and trying to portray the immense grandeur with the photo. Just can’t do it justice!

The evening’s events ended with Natalie Grant pouring her heart and voice into all 6,000 of us. I was so blessed. Then walking back to the hotel, I spotted him. The homeless one I was supposed to talk to. Our eyes made contact. His sign read, “Help me, please. God bless you.” I heard God’s voice. But I didn’t want to hear it. I still had many blocks to walk in the city at night back to my hotel. I was alone, although I wasn’t really. It couldn’t have been about my safety. There were many others leaving the arena and heading back to the same hotel. There were also other homeless ones all around him. Yet, I had honest reasons to not stop. I convinced myself that I “shouldn’t.”  I didn’t do the one thing God asked me to do.

I enjoyed the rest of the conference. It was inspiring, uplifting, and affirming. Yet in the pit of my stomach, I was totally undone. I came to Indianapolis to hear God’s voice and to do what He asked. I failed the test. I didn’t obey. I will never forget the look in that homeless man’s eyes.

I am praying that God sent another more obedient one to that man. In spite of my shortcomings, I pray that God’s will was done by someone with less resistance than me. I can rationalize all of my “reasons,” but the truth is, I fell short of the mark in my training. I balked because I was uncomfortable. No, I was scared out of my wits. I don’t want to admit that. I would rather see myself as fearless, but the truth remains. I chose fear over love, and I hate that part of me.

Today, I am resting in God’s mercy and forgiveness, but I am also forever changed. I am sure I will continue to wrestle with obedience when God is asking me to step out of my comfort zone. I am counting on remembering that homeless man’s eyes, boring into my soul—waiting to be helped.

Jesus tells us in Matthew 25: 35-40

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?” The King will reply, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brother of mine, you did for me.”

I am humbled. I am ashamed of my fears. I am truly sorry for not obeying. But then, I also am basking in the forgiveness of the Great Trainer. Tomorrow is another day! Let the lessons continue!