This morning, I joined up with some of my church family to hand out water bottles to those forced out in the Arizona heat by poverty.
I tagged along with two of my favorite people: Kelly and Lenora Bradshaw. What loving servants of Christ they are! It blessed me big just to spend some time with them. They filled up my love tank with their sweet encouragement.
A few miles from our church was a food and clothing distribution center teeming with needy people.
We pulled our ice chest out and handed out water to clients and volunteers alike. I spoke briefly with a woman named Laura. Morbidly obese, her swollen legs were covered in bandages…I suspect from poorly managed diabetes.
“Oh, I love the name Laura. Probably because I was addicted to Little House on the Prairie when I was young. I’m still a sucker for a good Little House marathon,” I grinned, trying to break the ice.
The woman’s skeptical scowl melted into a bright smile. The woman next to her, with her shopping bags full of her few belongings flashed me a semi-toothless grin and remarked, “I read all those books as a girl.”
Lord, heal Laura’s wounds, body, heart, and soul, and please give the other woman a place with a bookshelf to call home.
I walked around the corner to the front of the building and offered water to a tall African American man named Kenny.
“How ’bout a cold bottle of water?” I asked with steady gaze and a smile.
“Sure, I’ll take a bottle, but there’s something else I want more than that,” he replied with nary a smile.
“I want that ring you have there on your finger.”
“This ring?” I asked glancing down at the silver spoon ring. “I got this ring at a rodeo in Augusta, Georgia about seven years ago.”
“Well, I’d like to have it,” he pushed.
“Well, you have pretty big fingers, Kenny. What do you plan to do with this ring?”
“I’ll keep it,” he said, never taking his eyes off mine.
“Well, if you really want it, it’s yours.” I wiggled the ring off my chubby finger, noticing the indentation on my finger.
Kenny took the ring, slid it on his pinky finger and explained, “You know why I wanted this ring? You see, most people are willing to give up something like a water bottle or some of their old clothes because they don’t mean a thing to them and are easily replaced. Not many people are willing to give up something that means anything to ‘em.”
“Well, Kenny, people are way more important than stuff. I’ll let you keep that ring under one condition.”
“What’s that?” he murmured with suspicion.
“Every time you see that ring, I want you to let it remind you how much God loves you.”
“Oh, I know He do. I know God love me. He’s brought me so far. I just come here to remind myself where I came from.”
“Can I give you a hug, Kenny?”
“Naw, I don’t do hugs, but here you go.”
He led me in a fancy handshake and a knuckle bump.
I’ve been thinking about Kenny’s words all day.
How often do I love ’til it hurts?
How often does my giving involve sacrifice?
Are people really more important to me than my stuff? my time? my personal comfort?
Do I spend enough time reflecting on how far I’ve come by the grace and mercy of God?
The ring indentation still distorts my right ring finger. I wish it would stay that way forever as a reminder to love with sacrifice, extravagance, and humility.
Lord, thank you for my divine encounter with Kenny. I don’t know if he’ll really keep that ring, but I pray he’ll never forget our meeting. Thank you for letting me love on him for You. And thank You for giving me so much to ponder. I want to love with Your love every moment of every day. You loved us so much, You suffered and died. You gave up EVERYTHING for us! May no material thing become more important to me than You and Your people. In Jesus’ Name I pray, AMEN
