I saw a film last week based on the story of the slain missionaries in Ecuador back in the 1950’s but all my thoughts were fairly uninspired. I was the one child that couldn’t stomach Sandy Duncan playing Peter Pan when I was little- Sandy Duncan was a girl. Peter pan is supposed to be a boy. As far as I was concerned – they changed the story and it made me angry.
While a lot of the message of the sacrifice of the missionaries and the amazing story of forgiveness couldn’t be denied by the film…. The movie didn’t make it pop. Somehow it didn’t really drive it home. Afterwards I did a lot of reading about the film online and found out they made the 2 leads "composite characters" as not to confuse the audience with too many characters. And the most powerful scene in the film – Never happened. It was totally contrived. It really frustrated me. A lot like Sandy Duncan did.
Two days later I went back to donate blood. Three weeks earlier my interviewer put me in a panic over my iron levels and told me I needed to come back and try again in three weeks. She said that if my iron levels were still that low – I really needed to see a doctor about it. Apparently - I have learned since I went back the second time – my iron was low for a pregnant lady or a woman who wanted to give blood – but NOT for my own personal iron level. (I am VERY not pregnant!!) My nurse the first time appears to have sort of changed the story. She didn’t tell me the whole thing! Needless to say, I was relieved. However, I was also a little frustrated by that first nurse.
Giving blood doesn’t make me feel strange at all. But I obliged them. I sat that the table and drank my juice. I even ate some pretzels. While I just sat there staring at the wall – and nurse said, if you feel fine you are free to go. I went. I ran some errands. I picked up lunch. I stopped for a prize promised to a Sunday School class…. I was hungry. So I took a bite of my lunch and a sip of a drink …
I began to back up… and turn out of the spot… CrAsH!! What was that noise? Oh my goodness… it was my bumper… hitting a pole I forgot I was parked next to. Oh no. It’s definitely been KNOCKED off my car… holding on for dear life by one screw. Now I know, when you give blood, they tell you no heavy lifting, drink lots of fluids, and to take it easy for the day. I’m not sure they mentioned wrestling bumpers … no, I don’t recall any rules about that. So there I am… in the parking lot…. Pulling, twisting, tugging. Families are pulling in the lot… going inside… coming back out and leaving. There are plenty of stares from the literal hundreds of cars driving by. Every patron to this same shop I was trying to leave and staring as well. There isn’t one word except my quite plea – Please, just come of. Please.
Then I hear this voice, "M’am, are you okay? Do you need any help?" It’s the high school girl that just checked me out at the register. She’s next to me checking out the situation… tugging along side me. She even went inside to get a screwdriver, to no avail of course. She helped me pull off the bumper and shimmy it into my car. I thanked her over and over. She said she was just glad I was okay.
Then it hit me as I drove my clunker back to Bethel Park. THAT story will never change.
We get ourselves into some pretty ridiculous situations. Most people will strain to watch you wreck… but they will keep on going by. The ONLY person that will always be there to help you is the guy that already served you. His name is Jesus.
I certainly DO NOT have the luck of the Irish. But I do have a relationship with the Savior of all of mankind. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble- Psalm 46:1. I thank God for that.
That was the article I turned in for the March newsletter at church - but there have since been some fun developments....
Whenever you have damage to your car and you go the route of Insurance companies - there is that sigh of relief that you only pay the first so much of the whole cost of the repairs... You find relief
until you realize how much that deductible still is. Ouch.
So I had to eat some humble pie, and even as an adult... I needed to call in the 'rents for help. Lots of help. I wasn't sure that they were even in positions to help... but I had to try. Dad forgot to give me something at Christmas.... a stack of savings bonds - ALL in my name - worth, at face value, much more than my deductible. Wow. My parents don't even have to dip into their resources... I had what I needed all along, and it just took a little humilty to discover it. God's pretty cool like that.
just breathe. and if you need help - ask.
