One of the things that fascinates me is the number of people
I pass by everyday but never meet. Take those moments in time where our lives
are in parallel: the fifty year old woman passing by me in the aisle at Trader
Joes, the young mom with the fussy two year old at the table next to me in
Chipotle, the businessman on a conference call sitting next to me in traffic on
I-25. For that brief moment of time we are in the same place having a common
experience and yet, I know nothing about them, the journey that brought them to
that moment, be it the success of getting a pay raise that week, the guy that
broke her heart last month, the concern for
his mom who is getting chemo treatment. I don’t even know their names. In those brief moments, there are incredible
stories of adventure and heartbreak passing by me and I never ever get to hear
them.
Then there are those moments where the person in parallel
breaks in and intersects your life. Take this past Friday, for example. I was at the Caltrain station
buying my ticket to get to San Mateo. I was tuned out listening to a Graham
Cooke podcast: hearing aids out and headphones in. I was in the zone to check
out of fast-paced life of San Francisco and tune into the wise, soothing
fatherly voice with a British accent. At the moment, a middle-aged black guy
comes up and asks for money. I was annoyed. One) I didn’t feel like listening
to anyone at that moment other than Cooke and two) I didn’t want to miss my
train. So how did I respond? “I can’t hear you.” I told him. Which is true, for
the most part. He was miffed and by lip reading and his gestures, I could tell
he was saying that I was lying and that I was tuning him out by my headphones –
all I needed to do was pull them out of my ears. When someone accuses me of
lying, i.e. essentially attacking my character, I get defensive. I seized this
as a teaching moment – that despite his past experiences, not all people are
determined to ignore him or blow him off, and that I for one, was telling the
truth. I was deliberate in pulling out my headphones and saying “I still can’t
hear you” and then putting in my hearing aids and saying “Ok, now I can hear
you. What do you need?” He was a bit
startled as he watched me put the hearing aids and he registered that I was
telling the truth. “I need to get to zone 3,” he responded. Now here is what I
find intriguing. I believe how we treat the poor and needy as well as what we
do under pressure speaks volumes about who we are deep down. It is really
interesting to face both at the same instance.
So what did I do? I told him I can’t get him a ticket but I gave him
five dollars, knowing full well that amount would get him to zone 2 and not
zone 3, and hurried to catch the train.
That interaction has been with me the past several days. Why
did I give him money? Well, I think it was because I wanted to follow up the
idea that not only am I truthful woman, I am a generous person. But why only
$5? Not really sure, other than I don’t really like to give money to those on
the street, I much prefer giving them a nutragrain bar or socks. Is he really
going to buy a ticket or is it a ploy to buy his next bottle of whiskey? I
really have no idea. So if I were to take that brief interaction where our
lives intersected and put it into slow motion and be able to think through it
more thoroughly. what would I have done differently?
Here is one possible
scenario:
This starts after I have taken my headphones out and my
hearing aids in:
Me: “What’s your name?”
George: “George.”
Me: “Hi George. Nice to meet you, my name is Lindsey. Now
what do you need?”
G: “I need to get to zone 3.”
Me: “Ok, nice. Why do you need to get to zone 3?”
G:”I am trying to meet up with my sister.”
Me: “Oh that is good. It is important to spend time with
your sister. Why are you going to see her today in particular?”
G: “She just had a doctor’s appointment and I would like to
be there to comfort her.”
Me: “Ok, well, George, I am happy to help and buy your
ticket to zone three. Would you be willing to do me a favor in return?”
G: “What’s that?”
Me: “Sit next to me on the train and share with me more about
your story. I would like to hear more about what it was like for you and your
sister growing up. “
Now at this point, it would be really interesting to see how
George responds. If he was just trying to get whiskey, he most likely would
turn it down. But if he really wanted to go see his sister or even if he was
just trying to go to zone three, he would probably take me up on it.
Now some of you are thinking, Lindsey are you crazy? That could be really dangerous! Yes, he is
total stranger and he may be totally unstable. But we are on the Caltrain which
is totally public place with lots of people around. Furthermore, I believe
people, including homeless or poor people, pick up on it when a person has a
genuine interest in them and for the most part, respond positively to that. I
think that is why Jesus stood out so much. He is the most authentic, genuine
person who ever walked the planet and people knew it. He had compassion on the
multitude. Not everyone liked him or agreed with him, but those who really
listening, knew He was for real. Because I walk with Jesus, I believe that He
cultivates that same quality in me. Am I willing to put it to use in a
situation like this?
It will be interesting to go to Tanzania. Right now our
lives are skew- a geometry term for lines that are in different planes and
never intersect.
There are millions of people in Tanzania who live in a completely different plane than me. They get their water out of the well, I get mine out
of the faucet. They get their food from their backyard garden, I get mine from
the big box chain store. They read in the glow of candlelight, I read in the
glare of my computer screen. But very soon, I will be the one crossing over,
intersecting my life with theirs, especially in that moment of need. When I need
help finding out where to buy beans or where to get soap. will they be willing
to stop and give me a few moment of their time? I sure hope so. Perhaps, they will
also ask to hear my story in return.
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