Sarah Smith

Maybe it’s laziness, or maybe apathy toward culinary greatness. I am terrible about sharpening my kitchen knives. I have a nice collection of them –my husband and I have owned them for some time- but frankly, most of them are butter-knife dull.

It’s the situation where you are in a hurry in the morning, trying to make sandwiches for the day. You know, when you have to leave in 10, but find yourself sawing on a tomato to try to get your knife to enter through the skin and slice that thing? Finally, in frustration, I usually jab the skin with the tip of the knife to get it started (violent, I know, but we’re talking about a tomato).

There is one exception to my collection of dull kitchen knives. Someone gave us a peeler that came with a paring knife. This knife is SHARP, so sharp, that the sun glints off the blade. No sawing, no sighing. It does the job, and quickly. The tomato is sliced in no time, making me feel like one of those chefs on an infomercial. You blink, and he’s done chopping, dicing or whatever his pursuit. So despite my many other choices, this is THE knife I search for when I need to do some veggie slicing and dicing.

I wonder if God sometimes feels the same way. He sees all his children, and has many tasks for us to do, people to minister and reach out to, people for us to serve, as he would serve them; many needs to be met.

But some of us are dull. We are not sensitive to His leading. We’re not prepared and ready. Maybe we’re overwhelmed with a busy schedule. Maybe we are distracted by what the world offers, from material goods to adventure. Maybe we’re plain worn out. And maybe we’ve missed out on something bigger that God is calling us to.

Recently I have been reading “Search & Rescue” by Neil Cole. In the book, he tells a dramatic story how as a lifeguard, he rescued a small boy from drowning in the Pacific Ocean. Neil reflected, “This boy is a man today because I was busy doing the things that lifeguards are supposed to be doing. I was down on the wet sand, close enough to reach the boy before it was too late. If I had been up in the comfortable tower, removed from the sand and water, I am confident that I wouldn’t have made it in time to save this child. . . I never would have seen the boy if I hadn’t remembered my prime directive and scanned to see if there was anyone in the water who needed to be rescued”.

When God has something for us children to do, I want to be the one He searches out to use. I want to be sharp, ready, alert – prepared. I am by no means there, nor do I plan to lay out a plan for doing this. In fact, I can think of more times when I’ve been more distracted than ready. Like the time a friend stopped by my work to bring something to her husband (my co-worker). This woman and I had spent time together, had dinner together. She recently moved here and has been searching for a job. Yet, I was so focused on my work that I didn’t have the presence of mind to get up and say hi and see how she was doing (terrible, I know). I haven’t mastered it, and I’m running out of space to speculate as to how to get there.

But I have several ideas. And maybe you do too.

Challenge from a Stranger

One Saturday afternoon my sister and I met a friend for lunch. As we sat under the misters in the Arizona sun, we chatted about whatever was on our minds at the time: happenings in the lives of mutual friends, food, clothes, and other very deep topics (or at least entertaining to us!). After we had been there for several minutes, an older man came and sat at a table nearby ours. I looked at him curiously, as he was carrying a liter of 7 Up that was about a third full, a cup, and a string of large orange beads. He sat down and leaned back in his chair, appearing to be settling in for a relaxing time.

He did not seem interested in the menu, nor did he seem to have any intentions of ordering. Instead, he poured himself a bit of soda and began slowly sipping it. In his left hand, he held the string of beads, slowly playing with them in his hand, fingering each bead on the strand. A waiter came through and gave him a warm friendly hello – he seemed to know the man, or at least familiar with what may have been his regular presence at the restaurant. The waiter did not ask the man for an order or hand him a menu. When the waiter left, the man continued to sit, sip, and roll the beads in his left hand, as he looked off into the distance. He seemed resigned, yet content.

As I mentally distanced myself from our girlish chatter for a few moments, I observed this man and wondered. What was his story? Why did he have the beads? Were they a type of rosary and was he praying? Did he have memories at this restaurant that drew him there to enjoy the atmosphere, and perhaps remember? Why the 7 Up? (did he hate Coke?) My mind wandered as it explored various possibilities.

I would like to say that I had the courage to leave my table and ask the man some questions, and to find out his story. I wish I could piece my observations together with the actual facts. Instead, I stopped, observed, and then returned to the planned happenings of my day. However, seeing this man did not leave me wholly unchanged. In fact, in some ways, it left me challenged.

Do we take the time to understand people, to see beyond the surface? People are not just the friendly neighbor that waves, or the customer service representative that was rude on the phone, or a pesky telemarketer calling at dinner time, or a crabby customer that yelled at me on the phone. People are, well they are people.

They have feelings, struggles, insecurities, difficult circumstances, relationship issues, joys, people they deeply love and care about, the longing to be accepted and make a difference. A real and poignant example for me came up at work the other day. I learned that a woman that works for one of our vendors is a single mom working to support her children, while in treatment for a brain tumor. She is no longer just a person that helps me make things happen in my work. She is a person I can pray for and be caring toward.

In all ways, I want to see people beyond the surface, and learn more of their stories. To see people as God sees them, to reach into their lives, and to share with them my story too.