“I’m feeling adventurous this morning!”
Those words came out of my mouth as we passed by our street while chasing down bad guys.
Actually, I said those words as we passed by our street to look for more yard sale signs. At the same time, the baby just woke up from a nap and was teetering on the fine line between fussy and giggly.
When you become a parent, your definition of adventure changes DRASTICALLY.
This was living, y’all.
We passed a few more streets and drove around a large neighborhood before calling it a bargain hunting day, and we turned back on to Highway 70 heading towards home.
We were laughing along to the radio when we heard it.
CLICKETY CLICK CLICKETY CLICK CLICKETY CLICK.
I didn’t mean that kind of adventurous.
Fellowship Baptist Church was just on the right, so my sweet husband pulled in and parked. He went to the hood, I went to get the baby out of the car seat, and then we saw it… a cord thing dangling on the pavement.
(I later learned that it’s called a belt).
(I did not know cars had belts).
(Maybe it makes the engine’s waist look smaller).
Thankfully, we weren’t far from home and my parents live close by, so they were on their way to come get us (thanks again, Mom and Dad!). It was also a low humidity morning in August in the South, which that alone is a miracle in itself.
But something really cool happened in that church parking lot.
While we waited for a few minutes, two different people – complete strangers – pulled in and asked if there was any way they could help. One of them was even getting his phone out for us to use to call loved ones if we needed it.
They didn’t know us, and I’m sure they were in the midst of a busy Saturday morning.
(In fact, one told us he was on his way to Antioch to visit his sister).
Yet, they made time. They made a choice. They saw a young family with the car hood up in an empty parking lot and stopped. They could’ve kept driving and gone along with their day, as many did, but they didn’t.
Would I have stopped?
I don’t really want to answer that question because, well, I know the answer.
I would have kept driving.
Oh, I would have made myself feel better by knowing that I have no car expertise at all to offer (see belt insight above), but I learned something today. I could offer my phone to make a call, I could offer to drive down to the Dollar General down the street and buy a cold drink, but the most and best I could offer is to let them know I care.
Those two gentlemen did that today.
In a world where people get shot in church, in movies, and we cringe to hear where next, those two guys taught us that there are still good people.
Let’s not be the Priest or Levite looking the other way when others need help.
Let’s be the Good Samaritan.
Let’s be the good.
Despite our good intentions, I think we sometimes make this whole church thing a whole lot more complicated than it has to be.
It doesn’t take a fancy building.
It doesn’t take committee meetings.
It doesn’t take bright lights, a choir robe, a smoke machine, a wooden pew, or a coffee bar.
It doesn’t even have to take money.
All it takes is a kind heart to shine the light of Jesus to the world.
Before we found ourselves in that parking lot, we passed that sweet little church on our yard sale excursion. I remarked that their sign was advertising a revival.
Revival? I believe we just had it.
(Fun fact: We received a check in the mail this past week that we weren’t expecting. It more than covered the complete cost of the repair to the car. Thanks, God. I think you wanted me to learn a lesson this week. Lesson learned).