What if I Stumble...

The other day I got the writing itch and picked up my journal. The result isn't a wonderful account of my recent ministry. Rather, it's an honest picture of the struggles I face, the mistakes I make and the ways I am in desperate need of the mercy, forgiveness and strength of my Savior. If you're still up for it, read on.

There are some aspects of this new life I live here in RO that cause me to question. I question myself. I question the human race. I even question my God; although I trust Him fully, I don't always understand His ways. Then I usually question myself again.

Nearly everyday I walk down the street from my apartment, headed out for the day, and I see a woman digging through the garbage. It's the same woman each time. She has a system, and it's a habit. Every time I walk by her I face this inward turmoil. I want to ask her name and find out how she ended up in this place. My heart longs to know her story. Part of my mind/heart inwardly face-palms every morning thinking: "I should bring her a sandwich and buy her a bottle of water." But I question my ability to speak to her and explain WHY in my broken Romanian. Horrid excuse! And I keep walking disgusted with myself. I walk on to my "ministry" for the day and walk right past the need.

What kind of selfish person am I, to decide it's too uncomfortable to reach out to her, someone in such obvious need. I just keep wondering about her life. Maybe she grew up her whole life like this, like those kids I see going around with their parents digging through dumpsters. OR, maybe she used to have enough. Maybe she was left, abandoned, rejected and now this is the only way she knows how to survive. I hate myself for not doing anything, for just walking by each day. I don't believe myself when I think: "maybe tomorrow..." What a wretched soul I am. God help me surrender my selfishness and let your love truly abide in me, so that when I see those needs, I WILL choose to help.

There's another woman who lives in my neighborhood. I see her limping along the sidewalks and sometimes on the tram. She has a prosthetic leg. She is well dressed and probably in her 50s. I've seen her carrying groceries home, limping along with a mixture of pain, pride and determination painted on her face. I want to ask if I can help her. I could carry her groceries. Yet, I don't want to offend her. I use the excuse that I'm still sorting out this culture that I feel is so stiff around strangers. Another horrid excuse!

Walking through the streets here often confuses me. In this city people walk around without acknowledging one another. When you pass someone in the street, it is unusual to smile or say hello. Sometimes people stare, but they're just looking. It's different if you know someone, but largely people walk around with blank faces, as if they were the only people on the sidewalk. People sit on the tram and ride across town without saying a word or even smiling to the people beside them.

I'm from small town Kansas. We wave and smile at EVERYONE! When you drive by someone you usually wave, or at the very least raise an index finder in salut. We say friendly hellos as we walk down the sidewalk, even to people we've never seen before. However, my "normal" is strange here. There are days though, that I walk down the street and the challenge, "treat everyone you meet today like Jesus" pops into my head. That usually zaps me out of my tunnel vision and back into reality. I start seeing REAL people around me. I sometimes smile or say hello. Yes, I get weird looks. No, they don't always smile back. Yet, when I begin to think how Jesus treated the people He met while walking on this earth, I wake up.

I'm still figuring things out here. I'm still confused some days. I'm still learning. Through it all I'm so thankful for my Savior who walks these streets with me. I'm thankful that His mercy is great enough to forgive me when I walk by and do nothing. I'm thankful that He will keep working in me until I DO help those people He has placed in my path.

There's nothing about me that's perfect or even good. The only good in me is from Jesus. Living here has revealed my selfish nature. I'm desperate for the forgiveness of my Savior. I long for the Holy Spirit to abide in my and create in me something that might honor my Heavenly Father.  So, here I am: a broken, selfish girl who is loved by a perfect Savior. I don't deserve it. I can't earn it, but He loves me. No matter how much I mess up, He will never forsake me. So, I'll keep running back to Him, asking Him to teach me how to love my neighbor as myself and how to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength.