Taking the kids out to the library is never a simple task when two of your boys are actually little monkeys disguised as humans. Thank God for my oldest girl–even at age 7, she is like a second mom– no wonder they say girls mature faster, much faster! After fighting over who gets to sit on which car seat for God knows how long, they finally settle down for a fun-filled morning with Dad. Having worked up quite an appetite from yelling (ahem, I mean, being lovingly firm) with them all morning, we head over to the local Panera and get some eats. As we are about to leave, I notice a strange sight–a blind man with a cane in hand going in circles in the middle of the Panera parking lot entrance. A nice dude is yelling instructions at the blind guy from his SUV, “Move to the left! A couple more steps!” It’s clearly in vain because he’s just moving in circles. I tell my kids to stay put and walk out to the blind guy. I ask him, “Are you OK? Do you need me to take you somewhere?” He responds, “I just need to get to the bank.” I look up and see the bank over a little grass hill next to Panera. I take him by the arm and say to him, “I will take you. Just follow me.” With apprehension in his voice he responds ok, but I can tell he’s unsure whether to put his trust in me. I start leading and our slow deliberate steps are accentuated by the rapid tapping of his stick on the sidewalk. A little more at ease, he says to me, “I would be fine if I knew the construction on the sidewalk was over.” I respond, “Yea, they moved those signs a week ago” and realize how stupid I am. Boneheaded comment! He doesn’t seem to notice though and we finally arrive at the bank. I make sure he’s ok and quickly dash back to the car where my kids are watching this entire saga of events. As I buckle my seatbelt, I feel larger than life, almost like Jesus. I’m thinking to myself, ‘How can I milk this Good Samaritan moment for all its worth?’ I was anticipating for my kids to break out into a tenacious applause in appreciation of this great human being that is their father. Sigh… my foolish thoughts are interrupted by one of the monkeys, I mean boys. “Daddy, did he know God?” … Uh … Wow … I started a couple of times to say something, and then to my better judgment, I kept my mouth closed. 

From the mouth of babes… My good deeds should never be an end to themselves and they should never be a means to draw attention to myself. Rather, my good deeds should be an overflow of gratitude to Jesus for His light that shone in my darkened heart so I can see. If I ever see the blind man again. I will be sure to walk with him (if he lets me) and ask him, “Sir, do you know God? Do you know Jesus?” With his permission, I would love to unravel the Story of the Light of the World who came to open sinful humanity’s blind eyes. 

Lord, thank you for reminding me through the blind guy and my little guy what ministry is about.

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