Hands and feet, hands and feet

Woman crocheting

Ever had one of those days when you think, “Huh, maybe God is trying to say something to me?”

I started my morning computer session with a message to a colleague in East Asia, who is helping FH respond to a disaster you probably didn’t know about.  I started the email with, “I’m glad to have a reason to contact you, but so sorry the reason is a disaster.” Indeed if it weren’t for the disaster, FH wouldn’t be working in the area where the disaster struck. But it struck, and I got to help out from afar.

Yesterday I was talking with my neighbor Mary, who owns several condos in my complex.  We were talking about a recent set of burglaries in our complex and I mentioned my bike had been lifted from my patio recently. “Oh, I have one sitting on the back patio of one of my units — it’s not fancy but it works,” Mary said. “My winter tenants use it but they aren’t there now. Anytime you want, why don’t you borrow it?” Heck yeah, I want to avoid buying another bike and heck yeah, I want to be able to bike to the grocery store when I only need three things. Mary feels good about helping and I feel good about my exercise level and helping the environment.

And in another neighbor-related example, I have had a difficult relationship with my upstairs neighbor, who, as I type, is raining dirt down on my head. He’s cleaning up his patio by sweeping it, and all the dirt goes through the cracks in his wooden floor. He’s kinda challenged when it comes to thinking about the results of his actions on others.  But at the same time he’s serenading his work with the whole Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album, which I’m grooving to. And it reminded me of living in La Paz, Bolivia, where there never seemed to be any limit on noise levels emanating from outdoor sound systems. The jams transported me back to a pleasant place and time. (Well mostly. Not so much, at 3 a.m.)

In all cases, something BAD allowed something GOOD to happen: people got to serve, somebody felt served. We’re God’s hands and feet whether we realize it or not, sometimes just by doing our normal, everyday activity. We don’t need to fret and worry so much about “what does God want me to do to serve him?” Just love thy neighbor as thyself, and the service happens.

 

Related posts:

  1. “The river moved so quickly … all we could do was run”
  2. The reality of hunger
  3. The Fragrance of a Biblical Worldview
  4. Reflections on winning the lottery
  5. Letter From Japan

About Beth Allen

I'm a self-professed sustainable development geek who would have a very hard time picking a favorite country. That means, I love every tribe and nation and take great joy in seeing how God is working in the world. I've been with FH for nearly two decades, and started out by serving with them in the Bolivian Andes. I can't live without Jesus and coffee, but the coffee is mostly decaf so the power is from Jesus.

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