Friday, 23 January 2009

  • The Beaten Down

         I saw a little blond haired girl on crutches.  She walked, gingerly, stumbling, as her mother followed her, trying to pat down her poor, dirty clothes.  One little girl, on crutches.
         The world is full of people who can barely walk.  Not all of them need crutches.  Nor are all of them poor.  But, it remains true that people are most often just struggling to get by.        There was a time, when I had crutches to walk, you know.  When I was 13, a semi-truck ran over my legs, while i was riding my bike home from school, across town.
           The crush of being run down by a semi is unimaginable.  It was relentless, it came closer, and closer, and when it could come no closer, it crushed me. 
          It felt cool, and overwhelming.  The pressure was so intense, that I did not feel it so much as sense it.  There is no other way to describe it.  Something too big to feel, but so destructive it could not be ignored. 
            After that, too and from school was on crutches.  Blisters, then bruises formed under my arms.  Every day, 2 miles to school, two miles home.  Crutches forward, fall on them, lever forward, step.  Crutches forward, fall on them, lever forward, step.  And, when my sides bled every day, I learned to walk again.  Limping, pathetically hopping two miles to school, then two miles home.
           And one day, half stumbling, half limping, I fell.  I could not get up.  My arms were aching, my sides were bleeding, and my legs did not work.  I was on the ground.  I could not move, not do anything.
           There was no one around.  I tried to get up, and fell forward.  Finally, painfully, I worked myself from the ground to one knee, but could not go any further.
            Never forget in life that there are days when you will believe that you cannot get up.  You will be down on your knees, and you will be broken and bruised and bleeding.  You will have journeyed far to get there, and you will see no way to go further.  You will be at the end of yourself.
            That day, in the midst of the heat of an Ohio August, a hand came from behind me, and offered itself to me.  At the end of it, Eric MacGrath stood, and helped me to my feet.  He asked if I was okay, and then let me go on.  I took the next step.  And then another.  I made it home that day.
            At the moment you are at the bottom, hands present themselves.  And when you are lifted, you will have the chance to see how much further from the end of yourself you are. 
          Today, I walked to work, and shivered with fever the whole way.  Thirty degrees, a mile and a third, and a chest full of phlegm.  I looked at my bank account, and wondered where the rent would come from.
          At night, I pray for people I read about on here.  Or people I meet on the bus, or meet and talk to at the store or church.  We all need that hand, that little bit, sometimes.
          Some days, you can hardly see straight things are so bad.  Some days, you will feel ill, feverish, unloved.  Somedays, you will need crutches to walk. 
          Sometimes, I wonder what tomorrow will bring. 
          I know a little - I will be proctoring an examination - forty dollars.  A little bit more between me and homelessness.  A little bit more between me and a cold house, and no lights.  A little bit more towards buying a class at seminary.  A little bit closer.  I wonder if it will be nearly enough?
          I didn't have the money to pay for a day off - i needed every one of my hours.  So, i worked as lightly as possible.  I ignored the things I could put off until Monday...  and I wandered half befuddled trying to look busy until I could finally stop working, and begin my class.
          And in the class, at the end of my fevered day, when all I had was some freezer burned fries to eat, I waited for the day to be over, so I could sleep, and at least dream of good food.
          Then the professor arrived, and brought cookies, and brownies.
          And then a Andy arrived, and brought fresh popped popcorn.
          And then Mark arrived, and brought a platter of muffins.
          And then Jonathan arrived, and brought a stack of piping hot pizza's to class.
          And then, the professor said, instead of listening a lecture, we'll be watching a movie - Luther.
          I got a little bit of a hand, today.
          Are you beaten down?  Have you gotten to the end?  Maybe tomorrow, there will be a hand, waiting to pull you up.  Grace is everywhere, even when it seems all hope is gone.

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