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A few months ago at my Life Group through The Well Community Church, we had a presentation on Safe Families and the partnership The Well wanted to develop with them. Just listening to a brief introduction to the purpose and mission behind Safe Families caught my attention.
I soon felt a bit deflated, though, when it seemed as though there may not be much that someone like me could offer since I am not in a season of life where I could be a host family for children in need. So I sought out more information from the gal who had told us about Safe Families and was happily surprised to learn I was wrong; there are all kinds of other roles that need to be filled that are critical to the function of the program. I was excited to learn I could be a “family friend” and could offer basic things like a meal, a ride or other help to families both receiving services from the program and those hosting children.
Less than a week after deciding to become part of this program, I got a call about a young mom who needed a ride to and from a medical procedure. I figured this would be a very simple, small act of service that I could do. I had no idea the impact that saying “yes” to offering this gal a ride would have on my life.
I was given the gal’s name, who we will call “C” to protect her privacy, and called her to set up the time and place to pick her up. I remember thinking she sounded so afraid and nervous on the phone. She told me she had never gone through something like this and that she was scared. My heart just hurt for her, and I offered to come into the hospital with her if she would like company.
The next day when I picked her up, I had no idea what to expect or how the day would go. One of the first things she asked me was if I was a Christian. She told me a little about her faith and how much she had to rely on faith during the rough season she and her 2-year-old son were going through. I let her take the lead and what she really needed that day was a friend. Someone who cared. Someone who wanted to help. Someone who was willing to hold her hand when she got scared.
As we sat and waited for her procedure, she told me about several pressing needs and issues she had going on. I really felt like she was just happy someone wanted to listen, and when I was able to offer help for a couple of the problems she had going on, she really didn’t know how to respond. Simple things like needing to pick up her son’s birth certificate from an office downtown was a huge ordeal for her that would involve taking two busses and dealing with the anxiety of riding the bus in the first place. It was so simple for me to give her a ride there later in the day when she was awake and recovered from her procedure, and yet it changed her whole day.
On the drive home after her procedure, she said something that completely wrecked me. Her words are forever etched in my mind and heart. I could tell she was trying to wrap her mind around why I would want to help her when I didn’t even know her and she said, “You know, people like me don’t get to meet people like you…. I really don’t know how to thank you.” Honestly, that made me mad. I tried to temper my reaction when I explained to her that while our lives may look very different on the outside, we are really not different at all. She was wrestling with the idea that I would be willing to help her with absolutely no strings attached.
That “simple, small act of service” turned into a friendship with one of the most resilient, kindest people I have ever met. Our kids eventually met, and my boys took her little guy under their wing and wanted to do all kinds of things with him and both went through their toys to find things they could give him to take home. C and I are not different. We are both sinners trying to work out our faith in a broken world. One thing is certain: I discovered a passion I didn’t know was in me. I want to step up and give of the little I have to offer in order to BE the church and bridge the gap between “people like her and people like me.”