Wednesday, January 14, 2009

knock know...whos there

This morning as I was on my way to get milkweed for my caterpillars, there was an ambulance behind us. Dylan, who was driving, pulled over to the right hand lane and let the ambulance pass us. In Little Rock, this is a daily occurrence and I didn't think much about it.

We kept driving a little bit further following the ambulance and a lady ran out in the middle of the street waving down the ambulance. She talked to them for a minute, and then the ambulance pulled off. The lady stayed in the middle of the street and began to walk towards us waving her hands in the air. Dylan and I looked at each other confused as to what was about to happen. The lady ran up to my window and began knocking, loudly. Dylan nor I rolled down the window so she continued to scream through the window. She had a large bump on her head, and she was asking us to drive her to the hospital. I was in shock and did not make any gesture either way. I didn't see Dylan, but I later asked him if he gestured to her in any way and he said no.

She continued to walk past us obviously seeing no response and we continued to drive. As we drove around the corner, we saw where the ambulance had went and where we then assumed the lady had come from. There was a what seemed to be one car wreck at the bottom of a steep driveway. We later saw a jeep a the top of the hill that had also been wrecked.

Dylan and I talked about how awful the wreck looked, and questioned as to why the lady wouldn't have stayed at her car if that was in fact where she had come from and we didn't say much else about it.

However, it has consumed much of my thoughts since. I feel as though I am being pulled in two different directions. I would have wanted nothing more than to be able to get that lady to the hospital in hoping that she could be treated for whatever injuries she had sustained. I prayed that she hadn't been in some awful situation and had gotten away from it by wrecking the car and was now running from someone who had been trying to hurt her.

The counter direction that I am being pulled is more selfish. I too am human and bleed just the same as others. Although, I wasn't driving I would have made the same decision to not pick up he lady out of my own protection. I'm sure my mother would be happy with my decision.

I hate that my availability to help others is stumped only by fear. Fear drives much of my life, and I have yet decided if this is a good thing or not. Many would agree with me that I should not have picked up the lady, but how far will fear hold me back. And when will it be "safe" enough for me to help others.

Did Jesus fear for his safety when helping others? Did the martyrs fear for their lives when helping others?

Is their room for fear in faith?

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