Transition

“Lowe, where are you?” These were the words the little league football coach would holler every game. You see, every player went in for at least one play and this meant it was my turn. Honestly, it scared me to hear those words. I was skinny and really didn’t want to play even one play. Truth is, I was scared to death!

There was a rule that no player could exceed 130 pounds and these teams went to the seventh grade. When I was a fourth grader, 130 pounds seemed huge. Even so, I’d strap on my helmet and run out on the field hollering whoever’s name I was to replace. Once, I was on the kickoff team and, to my terror, the ball landed in the biggest boy’s hand. Four big guys were blocking for him so I held back.

All my team rushed down and nobody made the tackle. I could see these five boys thundering down the field toward me, so I made a plan. I stepped aside and let them pass and then jumped at them as they passed, landing face first in the grass with only a touch of one jersey! It is hilarious to look back on but also sobering to see that play out in adult life.

As a teen, I went to Mexico with a missionary and I knew no Spanish. Suddenly I was the minority and it was scary. This time, life was rushing toward me but I didn’t step out of the way. I did the best I could to spread the gospel. This began a transformation in my life.

The first church service I got to speak at was on a Sunday night. As one preacher said, “I said everything I knew and even some things I wasn’t sure about!” Looking back, I remember it was a train wreck. I was done in ten minutes. But I continued to transform.

I began to study the Bible daily and pray earnestly, and then suddenly, with the help of God, people began to listen, and I grew closer to God. I began to see the world differently and people who needed help and encouragement. Then came funerals and weddings. The first funeral I conducted was horrible on my part. I didn’t seem to help the family but I tried…and I grew.

Then I was asked to speak at a revival meeting. By then I knew that God wanted me to say things I didn’t know about to people I’d never met. I spoke about struggles I didn’t know people were having, but I spoke as God directed and people were helped, not by me, but by God. I was just a messenger.

Many years have passed since I held service. Now, I sit on the church pew and listen, but does that mean it’s over for me? If you’ve never spoken to a crowd or held a church service, does that mean you or I can’t make a difference in this world? Of course we can! But how, we may ask? To show you, I share a personal story.

Once, I was at a secondhand store with my girls. It was just before school was to start and we were browsing when I noticed a mom and a small boy. The mom had maybe one shirt picked out and I could tell they were struggling money wise. I walked up and said, “Hey ma’am, my two girls and I were just killing time and saw you guys. Would it be okay if my girls (who are beautiful, by the way) help him pick out some clothes?” I told the mom I’d buy whatever they picked out. If you could have seen the look on that boy’s face as these two pretty girls walked with him picking out clothes! Understand that I once was the small boy with a mom picking out school clothes with very little money.

Here is another scenario. Many years ago, when people carried traveler’s checks, I went into a gas station. A lady had pumped her tank full only to find out the store didn’t accept traveler’s checks. Her humiliation was apparent, so I stepped up to the register. I told the clerk I’d pay for the gas — after all, I’d just gotten my taxes back. The woman thanked me as the clerk looked puzzled. Fast forward to a few weeks later and I just so happened to run out of gas as I coasted into this same gas station. Suddenly, to my horror, I realized I’d left my wallet at home. I walked into the store and explained my situation to the clerk. The clerk who was there previously spoke up and said “He is good for the money. He’ll come right back with the cash!”

My point is that, in life, we always seem to wait for someone else to step forward. We look at our political situation and wish someone could or would do something. But how about you? What could you do to help? Remember the commandment Jesus said was the greatest? It was to love thy neighbor as thyself. Thy neighbor, the ones closest to you. In our mind, if we could only win the lottery or, to show my age, if Publishers Clearing House could show up with a big cardboard check, then we could do something. Odds are, that’s not going to happen.

Once, I worked beside a gentleman who was struggling and I didn’t know it. One day he mentioned being short on groceries. That evening my wife and I went grocery shopping. I told her for every item we buy that we’d buy two. At the register, we had it all separated out. The next day, I told him to come to the parking lot and we set the groceries in his car. He wept, I wept. You see he was my “work neighbor” and so, what I ate, he was going to also.

One more example. Once, while on social media, I saw a post from someone I knew who needed heating oil. As I read through the comments I honestly began to grow angry. So many said, call local churches or the Salvation Army or other community centers. I private messaged them and told them to take the post down. They were my friend and the oil would be bought.

I’m not saying everyone can buy oil for their neighbors, but what I’m saying is we always wait or look for someone else to do it. Sadly, today when we see others struggle, we do what Jonah in the Bible told the men to do to him in the storm: throw them overboard! Instead of rowing together we look for someone to throw into the water. It could be as simple as mowing your sick or elderly neighbor’s yard or helping a random stranger load groceries into their car. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, but do something!

In closing, I’ll pass on some sound advice I was given by an old man: When you see someone picking something up, make sure you are on the other end of it helping!