A Poor Samaritan I

I’m traveling today, on my way to a week long training event. It’s been a stressful weekend, capping off what was a rather harried work week. I had a number of things to finish up for the office Friday and Saturday while at the same time squeezing in social and family time.

Worse, my flight schedule was such that it prevented me from attending services today.

Welcome to my short, tense weekend.

Exiting the security area where I was fortunate enough to be offered the opportunity to strip down to my undershirt, I passed a man sitting on the floor in the center of the terminal. Airport security men stood on either side of him. I thought his hands were cuffed at first.

Arrested?

Then I realized his hands were just behind him, supporting him.

He was in distress. In fact as I walked by, he wept. Desperate, terrible sobs.

I continued to my gate.

It was not until I stopped to arrange my bags for the flight that it dawned on me. I passed this man as if he was nothing. Really, he didn’t register with me at all.

I don’t know if the man was drunk, suffering a break down, or had received some bit of crushing news.

What I do know is that I did nothing.

At once, I stopped and prayed asking for the Lord’s healing and comfort for this man and the strength to move through his pain. I also asked that my eyes be opened to the suffering of those about me that I might be a better instrument of Christ in the world.

I am reminded that I’m not just on a journey through this airport.