"Where do you find the families?"
Several years back, I felt like I had failed a test of sorts. One day at work, I got a call from our receptionist that I had a patient downstairs that wanted to talk with me. This made me wonder because I had nobody on my schedule for that time. At the bottom of the stairs in the foyer, I was met by a woman whose child I had seen for an evaluation about a week earlier. She was a single mother with three kids. She meekly asked me if she could borrow some money to pay her water bill. I was taken aback as this had never happened to me like this, at work or anywhere else. Several thoughts began racing through my mind: "Why is she asking me? Why can't she pay her bill? Is she telling me the truth? What should I do? Where should I send her? One should never give cash. Do I have any cash? ... " During the encounter, I had the same feeling I would get when a slick salesman was making his pitch. I had this knot in my stomach. I didn't want to be there.
She told me that they had shut off her water. Her kids could not take a shower and she had no water to cook with. I asked her how much she needed. She told me $60. I told her that I did not have $60 (This was technically true in that I did not have that much on me; however, I could have wrote a check without too much difficulty). I began listing off places she could go for help. She told me that she had gone to them already and they could not help her. She said she came to me because she didn't know who else to go to.
To this day, I can remember her face and the look in her eye. She looked desperate worried, afraid, and ashamed.
I remember being resolved that I would not give her any money or help until I checked out her story. I told her that I would check out some things and get back to her and, basically, sent her on her way.
I called the water company. They told me that, indeed, the water had been shut off and that she owed $60. I called Watershed, a ministry that she said she went to. She had been there. At this point, I began to feel uneasy.
Watershed also told me that someone had just donated $500 to them and that they would give her $50. I tried calling the mother several times that day and the following but could not get a hold of her. I saw her about one month later in the clinic and she was with a case worker. She told me her story. She ended up in a homeless shelter.
Since that time, I spent time meditating on my feelings and thoughts related to this encounter. I examined the motives for my decisions. Why was I so reluctant to help her? Why did the whole encounter elicit dread and fear in me? Trust me, I know all the arguments and justifications for not paying her bill: Maybe it would not have solved her problem. Maybe getting into a shelter where she could get into a program with a case worker was the best thing for her. Maybe...
Bottom line conclusion of my meditations? I was the kind of person that when a truly needy person asked for help, I would not help them. I was more concerned about being taken advantage of than helping a poor, desperate woman trying to take care of her family. I thought it better to risk not helping a truly needy person than helping somebody that didn't really need help. I was not a compassionate person.
I failed the test.
How do you find the families? Sometimes they find you. Finding them is the easy part.
Luke 6:30a
6 comments:
Thoughts:
"She must not know very many people"
"How can I tell her no while still looking like i care"
"I must be a fairly important person"
Markie:
She didn't know many that could help her. The poor don't.
Why would you tell her "no" like I did?
I would tell her no because i am selfish and would be more concerned about how much the money would actually help her than simply helping her.
I don't understand why we always learn the hard way...at least i do. It is strange that the lady came to you
For me, it was more of a lesson about my heart and less about what the right thing to do would be to best help the woman. I didn't do anything. Maybe paying her bill would have helped. Maybe sitting down with her and talking through her situation and options would have helped.
I know one thing. I didn't help her. And I didn't not help her in order to help her. I didn't help her because I was more concerned about not being taken advantage of and giving up some money.
I'd say you passed the test Mark. Look where the meditation led -- a change in hear (at least it appears from my perspective). Maybe it wasn't a test, but rather an invitation?
Looking back, I think you are right, Wayne. At the time, it felt like a miserable failure. To this day, her face is in my mind. A desperate woman trying to take care of her family and I, a professing follower of Jesus, did nothing.
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