Here in details an event that took place in Nairobi on our second day on the continent of Africa. Ginger, Shannon, and I were traveling back from a mall with darkness steadily approaching when we witnessed a woman lying on the sidewalk shaking, next to a city bus stop. As we gazed upon this woman I asked the taxi driver what happened and he said she was just struck by the bus. The bus was stopped and blocking our lane of traffic. Cars quickly filled the remaining road until we were stuck in a traffic jam. The driver and co-pilot of the bus were in the road attempting to direct vehicles in an effort to free back up the flow of traffic. At this moment my eyes became fixated on the woman. Is she hurt or just lying there? What is going on? Slowly people began to gather around her, but no one seemed to be worried. After maybe 30 seconds an entourage of people had gathered around the woman and I could see heavy feelings of concern in many of their faces. The taxi driver, still trying vehemently to navigate around the bus and back into the flow of traffic, pointed out there was a hospital just across the street. Why aren’t the people doing anything? Have they already called the ambulance? Were they told not to move her?
It was at this point after being stuck behind the bus for around a minute I saw great concern in a particular woman’s face. In her inadequacy, while her eyes helplessly wandered in search of a savior, a hero, she fastened upon me as if my lightly shaded Caucasian eyes were that of the Angel Gabriel. In that split second she sent forth a plea of compassion such that only a vessel seized by the Lord could omit, and it gripped my spirit. A holy firing of neurons signaled a link between consciousness and the deepest chambers of my heart culminating in a still small Yell, “Get out!” This voice was ensued by an onslaught of logic. There are 2 women from the squad in the car whose safety are of the utmost importance, do not get out. The cultural briefing and advice from the locals clearly point to foreigners being set up as a regular occurrence. We are already late getting back to the hostel and are not supposed be out past sunset. What can I do without medical supplies that these 20 people surrounding her cannot? The logical decision is clear, which is stay in the car and pray. I cannot by any means leave my sisters alone in this taxi at night among the dangers of a major African city, can I? Slow motion, slow motion… I could count nanoseconds at this point. “Take off your seatbelt, open the door,” what are you saying conscious!?! That can’t be right Holy Spirit…
My hand slowly creeps to the belt buckle with her eyes still firmly fixated upon mine, facial expressions transcending any Swahili to English language barrier, she exclaims, “You’re going to help right? I mean that’s what angels do, isn’t it? That’s what saints do, don’t they?” Eyes unchanging, if I blinked and missed a moment the image was already implanted in my soul. Her eyes and those pleading gestures… The cab driver finally seizes an opening and makes a “Dukes of Hazard” esque move navigating us back on course. An unsettling feeling sets in as we quickly drift away from the huddle of perturbed Kenyan citizens.
It is interesting when reflecting upon this event how different my experience was than Shannon’s. We both had unique perceptions of the moment, and at the same time wrestled with the same unsettling feeling afterward. At this point I can easily confirm and verify I should have gotten out of the car. After assuring me I made the correct logical decision, a friend asked what I feel I should have done differently. Although I tend not to speculate on the “could have’s” and “what if’s” of situations in life the answer in this case was easy, open the door! Let go of perception, the wisdom of men, and have faith the spirit of truth dwells within me. The Lords advocate has been sent on my behalf and upon reception I now live life with a conscious linked to the heart of God. I also know logic and common sense are from God, but it does not override what I know and discern to be God’s voice. The most troublesome part of this scenario was my reaction. It seems God is more concerned about the state and intention of his children’s hearts than their role in the scene. He could use anyone in that group to help his daughter and if I got out he may or may not have used me in the actual helping of the hurt woman, it could have been to simply support the woman in distress over the occurrence. Point being my reaction leaves me slightly disturbed, and I would like to be able to say when faced with a similar decision I would follow what I believe to be the spirit of truth within.
