Yesterday we stopped at Target to pick up a couple of things. As I was about to get in the car a woman approached me. She was an older white woman. Probably late 50s or early 60s. She was mild-mannered and polite. She simply said, “Excuse me ma’am, can you help me?” I was taken aback by her approaching me out of the blue, and one too many episodes of Criminal Minds caused me to go on the defensive. I paused and said no. She told me she was sorry to bother me and walked away.
As she disappeared into the parking lot, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Why did I tell her no? Why couldn’t I give her a couple of bucks? Why had she chosen me to ask for help? Then, and you know I have a truly outrageous imagination, I thought what if she was Jesus disguised as an old woman and I had just turned him down? I wanted to cry. I felt awful.
I reached in my wallet and pulled out a few dollars. I drove through the parking lot looking for her. I didn’t see her anywhere. I seriously felt sick to my stomach worrying that I wouldn’t find her. I circled the lot several times and was just about to leave when I saw her. I called out to her and handed her the money. As she approached the car I apologized to her for being rude earlier and let her know I was simply caught off guard. She took the money and said, “Thank you, ma’am God bless you.”
God has blessed me and continues to do so and that’s why I found it so imperative that I find that woman so I could bless her.
When was the last time you helped a stranger?