The ultimate random act of kindness

Tonight I was a reminded of a story from my childhood. When I was a little girl I loved going to work with my dad, especially when we lived in New York. There was just something about the big city that I loved: the smell of the bakeries, the hustle and bustle of people, counting the taxis and limos from many stories up in my dad’s office building. One day when I was about six years old I got to go to work with my dad. I was so excited. I picked out a pretty dress to wear with tights and mary-janes to match. I packed a bag full of books, coloring pages, and crayons. I needed something to keep me busy while dad was working! (my parents had a rule that we weren’t allowed to go to work with dad until we knew how to read and hopefully that meant “keep ourselves busy”) Then it began…the 2-hour car ride into the city. It was only 30 miles, so that 2 hours felt like an eternity! I usually took a nap on the way there. Then we parked the car and walked several blocks to dad’s office building. It always seemed like everyone was going SO FAST. Everyone always seemed to be in a hurry and they even looked a little mean. Well my legs weren’t very long yet, so I was hurrying to keep up…then all of a sudden I tripped. I must have run into a curb or a crack in the sidewalk or something. It felt like there were so many people around us and I was so embarrassed, and was also in some physical pain. When I fell I scraped my legs and the rough concrete tore holes in my tights. I looked up and realized that I had dropped my bag and it seemed like everything had gone everywhere. My papers, my books, and my crayons were all over the sidewalk. Then for a split second it felt like everyone around us got quiet. People stopped and were looking at me and started coming towards me. Of course at this point, my dad was getting concerned and being the protective dad that he is, he kind of covered me so they couldn’t do anything to me. So, what did those busy New Yorkers do? They started picking up my things. Maybe they were stealing it? No…they started handing things back to us so we could put them in my bag, and they were making sure I was okay. As soon as everything was picked up and they saw that I was okay, everybody put their stern faces back on and took off walking again.

That day taught me a lesson that has stuck with me for the rest of my life: people aren’t always who they appear to be. Therefore, don't judge a book by it's cover. That random act of kindness touched me so much. Looking back I’m amazed. These were business people who had places to go and people to see, yet they stopped to help me. I think back to that and then I look at my life now, and I’m disappointed in myself. I’m disappointed in the fact that I so often put my own needs before others. I’m “busy,” so I often don’t look for little ways to help others. I get so wrapped up in all the things I need to do, that it's so easy to put myself first. But I can't think of anything that I can do for myself that could possibly be more important than serving and showing the love of Christ to someone else.  I hope I always remember this story and how such a seemingly small thing can make such a huge impact.  It reminds me of how important it is to focus more on others than myself.  

Then as I was driving home from Pullman tonight I started thinking about a greater story: one that defines sacrificial love. That story is of Jesus paying the ultimate sacrifice of death for my sins. I am called to love sacrificially and the most important example I can follow is that of the gospel and Jesus Christ’s sacrificial love for me. If I’ve been given life through Him, how much more am I called to share that life and love with those around me?

Being Stretched and Learning to Love

I start writing all of the time and then decide it’s probably not worth posting, or it might offend someone, or it’s not finished enough, so I never post it. But, this time, I’m not going to worry about it. I just want to share some of my recent thoughts with you. I’ve been thinking a lot about Oxford lately, ever since school started really. I cannot express to you how much I miss it. LCSC just isn’t the same. I just about go stir crazy sitting in a classroom all day. I just want to say “won’t somebody just assign me a 2,000 word essay and let me go do research!” Ha, never thought I’d think that one.

So, sometimes I’m just thick headed. What I’m about to tell you, may not make a lot of sense. I promise, it makes more sense in my head. ;) I learned so much at Oxford. But I came home and, while I had a hard time adjusting back to life in the U.S., I also felt like kind of just relapsed, and didn’t really apply much of what I’d learned. I’ve kept wondering all summer what the purpose was, of my going to Summit Oxford. I knew that it was a wonderful opportunity. I knew that I learned so much, including new ways of learning. But there was something that I couldn’t put my finger on. I felt like I should be using what I learned more than I have been. I overall just felt this sense of discontentment, because I couldn’t figure out what I was missing.

Yesterday I read a post from a dear friend reminiscing about Oxford. That’s when it finally hit me. I realized that the very thing that impacted me the most was the same thing I was struggling to define. Because that which impacted me the most wasn’t the country, wasn’t the education, wasn’t the worldview studies, although those things all played a very meaningful role in my time there. That which impacted me the most and will forever affect me, is the incredible group of people that I got to know while I was there.  

I came to Summit Oxford surprised by the diversity of the people. The group wasn’t at all what I was expecting and at first it was a bit frustrating to me, that we all had such differing views, backgrounds, etc. It meant there was more disagreement and drama. But I soon came to realize that this was not only helping shape our character, but was forcing us to look past ourselves and our backgrounds. We became friends. We became family. What better backdrop for these relationships to be formed than the grand old city of Oxford?

I didn’t always agree with these people. But, I learned more from them in four months than I’ve learned in many years. They taught me how to love: how to love people, how to love that which is beautiful and true. They taught me how to trust people again, realizing that we’re all human and will fail each other eventually. They taught me to embrace what is good and just. They taught me that despite our differences, we all were ultimately striving for the same thing, and loved the same Savior. They taught me that people should be given a priority in our busy lives. They taught me that no matter how hard I think I fail, there is always somebody there for me. They taught me how to show compassion. They taught me what the Body of Christ looks like, and that is something I will never forget.

 I may not remember all of the information, all of the knowledge, and all of the tools to become a culture changer. But that’s okay, because I encountered something much more lasting. Relationships are something that will forever be in my life. God, His word, and people are the only things that will matter in eternity. I’m so thankful that God used this spring to teach me so many of these important lessons.

So now that I look at Oxford like that, I realize that it was worth every minute.