At Least They're Committed

I know it’s not all on me. Yet, why do I so often feel like my failures are more severe than other people’s? Many of my transgressions are not what most would even consider failures. You know:

• The woman on the train kept hinting that she only had $100 to take a cab from the locomotive’s final destination in California to her home, and I had no cash to offer. I wondered about asking if she wanted anything from the lounge, but the gal she was sitting with covered that.
• That same woman kept playing portions of a song loudly over and over even though earbuds/headphones were required. I thought it was odd, but decided to just remember my own earbuds next time. A fellow who boarded later confronted her. She said he was a demon. Should I have defended her? Explained the rules to her? I just chatted with her about other things to try to lift her spirits. Was that right?
• Once a man who appeared homeless was screaming on the other side of the street in downtown Denver. He was huddled into fetal position and wailing at the top of his lungs. Should I have gone to see if I could help? A resounding thought in my head boomed, “Not this time. You’re not qualified.” Just then a man who appeared to be a preacher ran to the man and squatted next to him and started calmly talking him down. That brought me some peace.
• I didn’t have any cash to give to someone in need on the streetcorner. It’s the only reason I carry cash and I must be better about having some onhand.
• Once, another time on the train, at the tail end of zealous Covid-19 restrictions, a young man needed to buy something but all he had was cash and they didn’t take cash. I was sitting there eating and I felt horrible, “What do I do? Will he let me just buy the food for him?” Then the young man asked the man behind him in line if he would buy the food on his card in exchange for the cash. The man was happy to do so. That took all of 2 minutes, yet here I am years later still telling myself to be aware of these sorts of options and maybe I should have done more or reacted sooner.
• Oh man, am I being self-serving by even blogging about this?

Hmmm. A lot of my transgressions, it appears, are connected to not having cash on me to help someone out. I’ll have to explore that. I think if it doesn’t involve money, maybe I either don’t notice what I should have done . . . or I have followed through and helped someone.

Part of it is that I feel like God puts us in the right place at the chosen time, so it’s our responsibility to be alert to opportunities, jumping at the chance to support and raise up His people and creatures around us.

Still, I always have these thoughts creeping through my mind, no matter how many times I tell myself “It’s not all about you, TR, and you’re a fool if you think it is.”

I know what has brought this to the forefront of my brain. I’m always curious about people’s death experiences — as in not near death, but dead and being sent back. (Note I did not say ‘brought back,’ because it’s really not up to us in the end, is it?) Several of them have reported seeing a review of their life . . . like that old saying, “My life flashed before my eyes!” And although being dead doesn’t frighten me in the least, anticipating that life review is terrifying.

Oh, sure, I can think of good deeds I’ve done but I don’t think that makes me a better person in the least or makes up for my shortcomings. It simply means I understand we are all here to protect, love and honor each other and there was an opportunity to do so.

I’ll keep trying, Lord, to fulfill my purpose. I promise!