Sharing the Richness of our Lives

Colossians 3:15 “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.”

This is the time of the year when we become introspective. Thanksgiving allows us to think of all of the things for which we are thankful. Christmas is the backdrop for showing love and appreciation. For all who have touched our lives and those we do not know but feel compassion for their plight. New Year’s follows Christmas, a time of renewal. We commit to being a better version of ourselves. We are thankful, appreciative, and fortunate — not all of us.

This rejuvenation brings to light one of my rocks. It is a story bringing my attention to the importance of dwelling on the richness of my life. It reminds me of how important it was sharing that richness with others.

Atlanta has a spring art festival in Piedmont Park. It is a spectacular event both for its content and its setting. The Dogwood Art Festival is in the spring when the dogwoods are in full bloom. Although it runs the entire weekend, I go down early Friday. I like that time; I can talk with the artist as they set up their booths before the crowds arrive. These folks are incredibly skilled. They have an absolute passion for what they do. This passion is reflected both in the quality of their work and the prices they charge. The Dogwood Art Festival is not a mom and pop affair.

This particular year the weather was incredible. Azure blue skies, cumulus clouds that remind you of cotton candy. The gorgeous white and pink dogwoods in full bloom. The temperature was almost non-existent, feeling neither cold or warm, absolutely picturesque. The vendors were excited to show their creations. It was a joy to be alive.

After I had spent some time walking around, I settled comfortably on a picnic bench, not far from vendor row, to watch people. I like watching people. It fills me with curiosity. I was also growing hungry and trying to decide what cardiac inducing meal I was going to eat. It is apparently in the by-laws of art festivals management that healthy food was taboo.

A woman sat down on the bench across that table from me. She was late middle age, conservatively dressed, unremarkable in many ways. The kind of person you might see in a crowd without ever really seeing her, that perfect blend of human camouflage. She said, “I could live a year on the price of one of these things.” Without looking, I agreed.

Psalm 9:1, “I will give thanks to you, LORD, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.”

God has this incredible way of introducing me to the exact person with whom He wants me to engage. One thing led to another, and we started talking. I bought her lunch. One great lady, she was living in a half-way house after being released from prison. Life had been long and hard and disappointing. That once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that could have taken her life in a different direction was always just outside her reach. The hurdle in her life was guys. They came into her life at the wrong time with mischievous intent.

There was a determination and grit in her outlook. She had a vision, but no plan to get there. It wasn’t a grand vision. It was a vision to become normal. You know, 40-hour workweek, home, friends and maybe family. Everyone has a unicorn; this was hers. If anything, I am a guy with a plan. Our meeting wasn’t serendipity or coincidence; it was part of God’s plan for her.

We started talking about God’s plan for her life. God’s plan was for her to prosper. But she had to be willing to surrender her plan for His. He would be faithful in His promise if she would. The first step was to find a church that had good scripture-based teaching. Then she needed to join an accountability group within that church that she could trust. We talked for about 90 minutes. She was positive, engaged, and asked questions.

The transformation I saw was that she sat more upright. Her face softened. Her eyes were brighter, more focused. She stated that she knew her plan didn’t work. She had heard the message of Christ in prison. It was something she felt she needed to look into further, but she always put it off. She knew of a church that had members she knew. They came by the half-way house. She liked them; they weren’t pushy.

Others plowed the field and planted the seeds in her life; I was fertilizer (be nice; it’s a metaphor). The harvest will come.

1 Corinthians 9:10 “Surely he says this for us, doesn’t he? Yes, this was written for us, because whoever plows and threshes should be able to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest.”

Did she find her unicorn? I don’t know. I do know that God wants me to not only be obedient for the sake of others, but to share the bounty of His love for me with them.