Talking to Strangers

He was a tall, thin, clean cut, well-dressed man. What caught my eye was the huge leather suitcase he was towing behind him. This man looked like he should be riding in a limo, not walking along the highway, towing his bag. "Do you suppose he is headed to the bus station?" I inquired of my mom, who was in the car with me. She simply replied, "Guess so." "So you think he needs a ride?" I asked, more to myself than to her. "Yes, but he might shoot us," was her answer. I had been praying in the few seconds since we passed him and now felt keenly impressed to turn around and go back. Mom's eyes widened and she looked at me with alarm as I turned the car around. "I guess you better pray about it cause God is telling me to go back." My mom accepted this answer and did just that.

I pulled the car along the road in front of him and got out. He quickened his pace and arrived at my car, breathless. When I asked if he was headed to the bus station his reply surprised me. "No, I am headed to the Waffle House. It is an all night restaurant isn't it?" Without waiting for an answer, he went on, "I was stranded at the airport. Someone stole my carry-on with my wallet and everything in it. I talked to the police and they let me use their phone and gave me a ride to the local mission shelter. A friend is sending me a western union in the morning." He pulled out the Western Union paper and continued, " I just couldn't stay at the mission. It was so dirty and the people, well, they scare me. So I am going to sit at the Waffle House all night until my money comes." He rambled on so fast I wondered how he was breathing. "I am a doctor, a psychologist. I am not that kind of person, I am the person who helps people like them. I make a six figure income. I own three houses. I don't live on the street or at missions. I live in New York City, Manhattan. I am scheduled to hold a seminar in a neighboring town tomorrow. I haven't eaten all day. I'm a diabetic and should have eaten at the mission but I just couldn't do it. I want to be humble, I'm not trying to put them down but that place is so filthy, I just couldn't stay there. They probably have lice and who knows what else." "Get in," I interrupted, needing him to take a breath long enough for me to process his words. I was hoping he would stop talking while he put his luggage in the car, but no such luck. The same words, in endless repetition, gushed forth without ceasing.

Several things were obvious to me. His accent definitely proved that he was from New York and his suit and luggage made it clear he was a man with money. At least, until today. The fear in his face, eyes and voice told me that this was a first for him. He was way out of his element and extremely embarrassed and afraid. The way he talked about the local people and his surroundings here told me he thought he had fallen off the edge of modern civilization and landed in some third world wilderness. I quickly decided to help the man and told him I would buy him a few groceries and get him a room for the night. Relief and gratitude flooded over him as he thanked me, but the endless flood of explanations never slowed down. He was scared to death that I would think he was a bum. His pride made it hard for him to accept the gift and he began promising to repay me four fold.

As he finally walked into his hotel room and shut the door, I leaned back in my car seat and took a deep breath... ahhh! the beauty of silence.

This experience was one I shall not forget. It felt good to be able to help a person in need and I was greatly blessed but beyond that, this man taught me something. How difficult it is to be the one in need, the one who receives.

He, no doubt, was used to helping others. He was used to hearing their sad stories and offering his wisdom. It seemed that he placed himself in a different category. He had his life together. He was rich, increased with goods and in need of nothing. He saw it as a real sacrifice, a work of noble charity to stoop down and offer a few words to those who were floundering around making a mess of their life. But when the tables turned, he was humiliated. How could he need help? No, it's not right, he was a doctor. He wasn't on the same level as the "needy." His greatest fear was that I would see him in the same light as he saw those whom he had helped. It was of utmost importance to him to explain to me that he was not like "those kind of people." He was successful and "worthy" of my help.

Are we all this way at times? Do we look around us and see others as being on a level beneath us?. Do we take pride in "stooping down to help them?" Are we ever fearful that others will see us in this same light? Is it possible that God sometimes allows us to come into straight places to correct our faulty thinking and teach us some humility?

In Rev. 3:17 the Bible cautions: "Thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked:" We are all in need, whether we realize it or not. All have sinned and come short of the glory of God. All of us are in need of cleansing and forgiveness.


Let us be aware of our haughty attitudes and flawed thinking and seek forgiveness and change. May we follow the admonishment of God's word: "Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." Phil. 2:5-8

Bonnie Morsette - 10/17/2009