A story about banana muffins and how God once again pushed me out of my comfort zone . . .
Yesterday we went to the city to do some errands, the first one being a stop at the bank. It’s a quick drive downtown and we decided that Jared would run in and Rae and I would stay in the van (I find it annoying to be constantly taking her out of and putting her back in her carseat, especially for little in and out errands).
While we were sitting there waiting I noticed a man off to my left sitting on the ground, leaning against a building, holding his orange baseball cap out in front of him and asking for money.
I sat there and watched for the 5-10 minutes it took Jared to deposit a cheque into the ATM.
Not a single person gave him money or even acknowledged his existence.
And a war raged on inside of me.
I have a tendency to get shaky and light headed at about 10:30 each morning and I’ve learned over the years to pack myself a snack if I’m going to be out of the house at that time. On this particular morning I pulled two banana muffins out of the freezer for Raeca and myself that we had made earlier in the week. At this point Raeca had already eaten the majority of her muffin but I still had mine left. While I was sitting there watching this man I went back and forth with myself contemplating if I should (or even could) go give him my muffin.
I wondered why it was easier to do these things in a foreign country. If I was in Africa and this exact same man was in front of me I don’t think I would have hesitated to grab that muffin. So why was this so difficult? Should I even be allowed to go to a different country to do “missions” if I can’t even live the life Jesus calls me to when I am here?
When Jared came back into the vehicle the war was still raging on inside of me so I told him about it. And I still sat there thinking about it.
I sat there worrying about stupid things, like: “what if he doesn’t like banana muffins?”, “what if he thinks I’m looking down on him?” and just the fear of feeling embarrassed.
It bothers me that the decision was so hard for me.
In the end, I did grab that muffin and offer it to him.
When I got back in the van and was putting my seat belt back on I looked up at him as he finished unwrapping the paper and saw him inhale half of it with one bite.
I guess he likes banana muffins.
The funny thing is, I’ve been on a huge crackers and cheese kick lately and that’s what I’ve normally been packing for a snack when we go out but on this particular morning that just didn’t sit well with me and I remembered the muffins in the freezer. To me the whole thing feels like a God thing.
Please don’t get me wrong and think I’m telling this story to toot my own horn (an expression that gives me a very odd visual), I’m really not. But this little event has challenged me (once again) to be more intentional about serving those around me and to stop worrying about feeling embarrassed.
“Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’
Matthew 25:37-40
On an unrelated note, can you believe our snow isn’t gone here yet? At this rate it will still be here for another few weeks . . .
with love,
Chantel
Have a great Monday!
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