Outside of my hotel room this morning, on the way to check out, I ran into a random lady. Before I even had a chance to say anything, she began to ramble off a story that I could tell was rehearsed. I did ask her one question in the middle of her story, and she started back over with the previous sentence. As she repeated her story, three things ran through my head: first, I’m in what some consider to be the meth capital of the US; two, I have a 21 month old and my sister-in-law with me that I need to protect; three, my heart just broke for her.
Typically, when people ask me for money, I like to take them to buy what they just asked for. I won’t say never, but there is very rarely an occasion where I will just hand someone cash. Part of me is worried about enabling a person, but the other part worries about what if the story is true. This lady had a tough one. She told me her granddaughter, whom she had custody of, had just gotten out of the hospital and needed money to fill her prescriptions. Part of me just let my head drop back and questioned why I have to take such a strong stance on this “love people” idea.
Since she cornered me when I was putting my niece in the car, I just closed the door, locked it, and told her to walk around to the other side with me. I wasn’t planning on giving her any money, but I just grabbed my wallet and pulled out a few bills (sometimes it pays to be a missionary that never has cash) and put them in her hand and said, “God bless you.” I don’t know where it came from because I never say cheesy Christian cliches like that, but I did. Without looking me in the eye, she bowed her head and tried to walk away. I held on to her hand a second longer and said, “No seriously. Whether you told me the truth or not, God bless you.”
That made it even more awkward so she quickly darted away and put the hood on her jacket up. I wasn’t expecting a thank you and I didn’t need to validate my gift, but as she walked away, my heart just continued to break. I was in a funk for the next couple of hours, because I struggle with that question sometimes. I would never put my family in danger, but will throwing bills at the world’s problems even make them go away?
I told myself it was about just having the willingness to give away my own money, but then I quickly stopped myself. That whole interchange wasn’t about me at all. It wasn’t about my generosity, it was about a lady that obviously needed help, and I don’t think money was the answer. I’m praying for her tonight. Because I don’t think my $4 is where that transaction ended…
On the same note, I have a friend that’s been following my stories and tells his own. He had a similar run in with that question a few days ago. Read his thoughts…
