The Kindness of Strangers

" Go! I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. Do not take a purse or bag or sandals; and do not greet anyone on the road. When you enter a house, first say, 'Peace [be] to this house.' If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; if not, it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you. Do not move around from house to house. When you enter a town and are welcomed, eat what is set before you. But when you enter a town and are not welcomed, go into its streets and say, 'Even the dust of your town that sticks to our feet, we wipe off against you.' " Luke 10: 1- 12].

 Imagine a life like this! Going out on the road, following wherever life took you. Taking no purse-- that is, no money. Taking even no sandals. Taking no bag, which probably meant taking no change of clothes.

Is this kind of person a "free spirit", brave and trusting enough to depend on the kindness of strangers? Or simply crazy? Merely existing at the fringes of society?

I have relied on the kindness of strangers my whole life.

In my dysfunctional family, Love was hate. Money was love. Neglect alternated with cruel, cult-like control.

I was fed inedible food. If I did not eat it, my father would say to my mother, "Do NOT feed her."

I realized at age five, that I would have to find food myself, or I would be so hungry, I could not sleep at night.

There was my little friend Carol. She would take me to her grandmother's house, right next door to her own house. When you entered the grandmother's house, the light was dim, even on a bright day. It took my eyes time to adjust. Then I would focus on the sweet upholstered chair with a pleated skirt, but without any arms, a lacy doily draped on the back. This "lady chair" was covered in a faded fabric of scattered flowers. There was a honey colored side table and an old-fashioned lamp. Her grandmother was tiny and thin, but her eyes were kind and loving.

She would offer us a piece of bread with butter and a glass of milk. These tasted like the best things in the world to me. She saw that I was hungry, so she always offered me a second piece of bread. I wondered why she didn't have any Oreo's but I didn't complain at this unorthodox snack. I ate quickly, standing up. I knew I would get in trouble at home for eating at someone else's house.

Then, there was my friend Susie. I was a quiet, even timid girl. Being so polite, I was the only girl in the neighborhood allowed to swim in Susie's above-ground pool. After our swim, Susie's mother would heat up a can of chicken noodle soup for us to eat. It tasted like the best soup I had ever had. I would eye the pan on the stove, hoping for seconds.

Then, there was my friend Marti. I was over at her house the day after Thanksgiving one year. She offered me Thanksgiving leftovers.  I knew I would be called home for lunch soon. I knew I would get in big trouble for eating at Marti's house. And yet, I feasted: turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, and coconut cream pie. I stuffed myself. I went home and I was sent to my room for eating at Marti's house and for not being hungry for my own lunch at home.

I remember all these foods I was given, in infinite detail. I was blessed with the kindness of strangers.

I would walk myself to school, about a mile and a half each way. All the other kids took the bus or their mothers drove them, if the weather was bad. I walked in the pouring rain, I walked in the heat, I walked in the snow. I was afraid I would get in trouble for accepting a ride from a neighbor. But, I remember every single time a mother stopped the car and gave me a ride home. I would be freezing, or drenched. The car was warm and dry. It felt like being in Heaven.

By the time I was thirteen years old, I knew I had to get out of that house. I was like the disciples, in a home where I was not welcome. I had to shake the dust off my feet, and make a plan to go somewhere where I WAS welcome. I began saving my money from my babysitting business. I was paid so little, it was painstaking business to save up money. My purse was never that full of coins.

By the time I was eighteen years old, I left an "escape kit" at my girlfriend's house. It included an old washcloth that I had taken from my mother's linen closet. The wash cloth was so tattered, I hoped she would not notice it missing. I also put in the kit an old toothbrush. Then I told my mother I needed a new toothbrush. My girlfriend's mother would let me sleep over whenever I wanted to. This was my Safe House. I remember every time my friend's mother was that welcoming.

I have blamed my sorry life for being so dependent on strangers. I have blamed my parents for putting me in that position.

I think, how awful a life to wander around, hoping a stranger will rescue me! THIS is how bad things were, that I had to rely on strangers to feed me, to keep me safe in storms?!

At the time I was going through all this, I knew nothing of Luke 10.

Around five years ago, I began Bible Study at my church. I encountered Luke 10. I realized, I have lived Luke 10, my whole life.

 But-- far from being a detriment, I now am seeing that this kindness of strangers has been a true blessing!

Yes, my family was harsh and cruel. But I was open enough to wander from my house and see what Love there was, elsewhere in the world..

I was forgiving enough not to get angry or bitter or hateful, towards my family or anyone else.  I had enough Grace to see that it would also be totally wrong to hate myself.

I was wise enough to see that, like the disciples, if I was not welcome, the best thing to do would be to simply move on.

This "Luke 10 Life" was a hardship. A sad commentary on how I was treated as a daughter.

But my life is also an awesome testament to the Power of God's Love! I did not find what I needed from my family. But God did send strangers, who fed me, nurtured me, kept me safe.

I really had no family. But God was my Father all along.  And He gave me, as my family, the whole world!

Now I see that we are meant to have Faith that, where out life is lacking, God sends people to help us.
We are mean to trust, like the disciples, that if we are not welcome, we can move on and find a better place.

Who can YOU love, as a brother or sister, as you wander through your days?--because, if you bless someone with your kindness, you just might save a life . . . .

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