I almost passed her by…

I’m a speed walker. Hurry is my everyday tempo – hurry here, hurry there, hurry, hurry, hurry.

But today, He stopped me dead in my tracks.

With a small, withered old hand lifted, reaching, beseeching me.

I almost dashed past it. Almost. In my mad scurry to my next destination, I was nearly past her before my heart caught up with my legs and made me stop.

She was old, grey, disheveled, feeble. She stood there on the sidewalk, a doll-print sack hanging from one arm, lifting her hand to me and murmuring, “Young lady?” so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her.

I thought for a second that she was a beggar, and was quite surprised – we have many poor here, but few beg on the streets in our small town. They seem to spend more of their time digging through dumpsters for bottles to turn in for coins, and standing stoically by meager wares of vegetables and hand-knit items for sale on sidewalks. But this babushka was breaking the mold, it seemed, by asking for money on the street.

I looked into her face as I blustered past, my legs already slowing in their stride and my body turning toward her rather than on its predetermined path. I realized that the little hand she was raising was not cupped upward to receive money, but reaching for me, for help. As this fact and her voice reached my brain, I came back to her.

She pointed at the icy sidewalk and the curb before her, mumbling out a request for help to cross the unmanageable terrain.

“Of course,” I respond, reaching for her hand. Oh, that old, gnarled hand in mine… I’m nearly blinded by tears, remembering the countless times I held my Nanny’s hand as we walked together, she who cared for and loved me all my life leaning on me for support…and how she is now walking with Jesus. And to think I almost missed this…I almost missed Him reaching out to me, stretching out His old, gnarled hand, murmuring in His old, quivery voice. I almost missed this gift He had for me…because I was hurrying.

I suppose I think I can gain something from hurrying, but the truth is, I miss so much in my frantic, thoughtless scurrying. I almost missed Him there. I almost missed the chance to love Him by helping a dear aged soul cross an icy street. Just in front of me, other people had pushed right past that little, helpless woman, disregarding her as if she was no more than a dried husk of a thing, frail and trembling on the sidewalk. I was almost, almost such a one…I almost rushed past the King of Glory on the side of the road.

Praise Him that His quiet voice reached my ears…and my heart. I don’t want to miss Him.

Daughters, remember Me in every elderly hand that You touch
Sons, look for Me in the old and the blinded eyes
Children, remember, I’m sitting in wheelchairs and hospital beds
At every corner I wait for your kindness.

Search for My heart in the barefooted, wide eyed boy in the street
Find Me at home in the tears of a lonely man
See Me in children entangled in bodies that won’t let them rest
In every moment I wait for your kindness.

So do not pass Me by, do not pass Me by.
can you hear Me cry? do not pass Me by.

Come with your brokenness, come with your vulnerability
Come, take My hand with the faith I have given you
Comfort My heart with your kindness to even the least of these
In every stranger I wait for your mercy.

So do not pass Me by, do not pass Me by.
can you hear Me cry? do not pass Me by.

- Audrey Assad, “Kindness”

Editor’s Note: Pray for this missionary as she slows down and ministers to the ”least of these.” Pray for opportunities to minister to Christ by serving the people you come in contact with today. 

(names, locations and blog links omitted due to security issues; stock photo)

Advertisement