02.23.07
Flashes
by John Dobbs
They come in and out of my life in flashes. Catching me by surprise, I never know much about their origin. I seldom believe their story. I’m always busy with something else. But like lightning they flash into my day, interrupting the normal with sparks of angelic opportunity. Before I realize what’s happening, they disappear once more. Sometimes I see them again, and sometimes never again.
Darrel has no power, no water, he is behind on his rent, he appears to be nearly 30 but speaks as if he is 14. Upon letting him know we would love him to assemble with us, he begins to be a fountain of Scripture. He anoints the room with the message of salvation for all men and the Savior who loves all men. Then he rode away on his bicycle.
I was looking the other way and so I bumped in to her. Almost everyone was gone after Wednesday night services. This young woman was shivering, but it wasn’t cold. She spoke with quivering voice about having to get back to a nearby town so she could see her children. All she needed was five dollars for gas. So I told her I would be happy to take her to the gas station and to meet me outside. She insisted that she only needed the five dollars. I insisted that I do not give out money. When I got outside she was practically running down the street. One of God’s daughters who has given her life to drugs was crashing right in front of me, but there was nothing I could do. I tried to talk to her, but she kept speed walking away. Yes, she lied to me. But I only see desperation…a reminder of the work of the Enemy all around us.
Cynthia was a long way from home when she got a dreadful phone call. Her father had passed away that morning. She was volunteering on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, but her family was near Toronto, Canada. Like Dorothy, stranded in a foreign culture, she wanted only to get home. So I drove her to a place two hours away so that she could connect with someone else who could help her. I will likely never see her again.
She walks our streets, the lady with the gray hair. I spoke with her once and I thought she was a beautiful woman. Her beauty was covered, though, by several days without a shower and clothing that was last desired a few decades ago. She spoke clearly and precisely, but without the luxury of reality. Unwilling to seek help in traditional places, she walks our streets. I have no idea where she sleeps at night. The other day I passed her on the street and came to a halt at a stop sign. A block away she turned and watched me until I drove away. I wondered if I was driving away from an angel. Has anyone else talked to her? I don’t know.
But I do know that God keeps these flashes coming in my life. They remind me that I am surrounded by hurting and helpless people. Sometimes I can help them, sometimes I cannot. Sometimes I can, but I feel too busy to stop and pay attention. Always I am confronted by the face of Christ … His face converged into their faces. In divine ministry my hands converge into His hands. These flashes are for me God’s reminder of His limitless grace, appeals to a hardened heart to reach out once more.