How my closed fist may have killed a man

This week, as I sit in a Bible study, the topic of charity comes up. Someone says she never gives money if someone looks like a drug addict, or she thinks the person does not truly need the money.

My soul screams, “NO! ’Do not judge, least you be judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you’ (Matthew 7:1-2). When we start using our judgement to gage someone else’s need, we abandon God and start serving ourselves. We will use any and all justifications to not give to others. ’The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Who can know it?’ (Jeremiah 17:9)”

In an instant, I am transported back in time.

Many years ago, I lived in another country. On the weekend, I frequently went to the beach. As my mom and I were sitting in the shade, an elderly man with a guitar approached us and started singing. I was amazed at this man’s wit and creativity. At the end of the short ditty, the man asked for money. I told my mom not to give the man any money. I said, “Everyone in the country comes to this beach to beg from tourists and “rich” Americans. They are always trying to get money from us.”

We declined to pay the man anything. He continued on down the beach and sang to more Americans and tourists.

The next weekend, my university hosted a community health clinic. The event took place in a remote mountain village. When we arrived, there was a line several hours long. Although the country had free health care, the medical services were extremely limited. The basic services we offered such as blood pressure checks, eye exams and breast exams were a more comprehensive evaluation than most of the people received from their medical providers.

In the afternoon, the director and I went out into the village to see if anyone else wanted to come to the clinic. As we meandered, a country-wide bus stopped a few feet from us. An elderly man staggered off the bus. The director asked the man if he wanted to come to the clinic.

In an instant, I recognized the man. It was the gentleman from the weekend before. But instead of being bubbly and very talkative, the man seemed extremely confused and mumbled his words.

I quickly asked the man what was wrong. He told me he ran out of insulin last week Friday. He did not have the $30 to pay for his medicine. Instantly, I was overwhelmed with grief. I realized the man had traveled last weekend (and most likely this weekend as well) to the beach to beg for money so that he could purchase his insulin.

Immediately, I broke all cultural etiquette and social norms. I grabbed the man’s hand and told him to come with me.

I slowly led the man on the mountain road. I placed myself next to the steep ravine drop-off and had the man walk in the road as I was scared if the man stumbled, he would fall to his death.

When we arrived at the community clinic, I took the man straight to the blood glucose station, skipping the check-in process and the 30 minute wait. I took the man’s blood sugar. The meter would not give a numeric reading. It simply said “ketones”. I took the man by the hand along with his blood sugar readout to a local doctor who was giving consults to the community members.

I told the doctor, “This is my friend. He has diabetes. He has not taken any insulin since last week because he could not afford the medicine. Please take good care of him.”

And with that, I handed off my dear friend to the local physician. I have no idea what happened. With the man’s blood sugar being extremely high and being in diabetic ketoacidosis, he should have gone to the hospital and should have received immediate medical intervention. It is a tricky process to lower a person’s blood sugar and requires a lot of blood work and careful monitoring. However, I have no idea if the man was ever transported to the hospital, or if the hospital was able to safely lower the man’s blood sugar. There is a real possibility, the man may have died.

Moral of the story: If you ever have someone ask you for money, PLEASE GIVE! You never know why they may need the money. “Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God” (Hebrews 13:16). Moreover, if you refuse to give because you think they are not worthy of your cash, please know your hard heart may kill the person.

To this day, I still cry when I think about this man, and my erroneous belief that he did not need my money. I may well have killed the man. And that is extremely hard to live with. “Give to him who asks you, and from him who wants to borrow from you, do not turn away” (Matthew 5:42).

A crouching tiger is sitting at my door

Every week, I sit in a Bible study, and something from Scripture will jump out at me. I am enthralled and captivated by verses and meanings which I had never thought of before.

This week, I was desperately trying to sit through the session. My pancreas was raging in pain. My head was aching from a headache which had been tightly sneezing my skull for five days. I tell myself I have to concentrate.

The teacher passes out sheets of paper with a memory verse. “If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you of not do what is right, sin is crouching at the door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it” (Genesis 4:7).

I am delighted to receive this scripture. It is one of my favorites. It conjures up an image of a tiger waiting by the door. As a person absentmindedly exits his dwelling, the tiger (sin) springs upon him. He has the choice to fight it or let it defeat him. I tell myself I will mediate on this verse all week.

A few days pass. My pancreas is better, and my headache is gone. In an instant, chaos erupts as I receive an email which forces me to radically change my plans. I am extremely frustrated and upset. Someone notifies me 4 hours before the event that I have to find a different venue. My emotions fly into overdrive. I desperately try to contact everyone coming and make last minute arrangements at an alternative location.

For the rest of the night, I am on edge. Perhaps it is not all bad as the surge of emotions gives me energy to get through the night.

After the event, as I sit in bed regretting that I had failed this test, I open my Bible to where I had placed my Bible verse. I read the memory verse. I then smile and laugh.

Today, sin had crouched at my door and had sprung upon me. Instead of fighting it, I let it devour me, I sigh and think, “As hard I try to master sin, it is constantly pouncing upon me. Perhaps some day I will be better. But for now, I need to keep meditating on this verse.”

My Most Memorable Racism Experience

 I sit in my kindergarten class. The teacher explains we are going to learn about racism. The room is going to be split into blacks only and whites only. The teacher assigns a race to every student. She intentionally makes best friends to be opposite colors. In the morning, I was to be “white” while my best friend was to be “black”.

The rules for the game were such. Whites could only play with whites. Blacks could only play with blacks. Whites got to go outside first for recess. Whites got to go to the drinking fountain first.

I was terribly heart-broken to be separated from my friend. At recess, I slowly made my way outside so I could talk to my “black” friend when she was dismissed for recess. At the drinking fountain, I waited to be the last “white” person in line so I could talk to the “black” students behind me.

After lunch, the roles were reversed. All “white” students were assigned to be “black” and all “black” students were to become “white”.

I was now “black” and my best friend was now “white”. My friend decided she could not talk to me or play with me because I was “black”. As soon as she was dismissed for recess, she hurried outside. She did not wait for me. At the drinking fountain, she rushed to get in line. She never looked to see where I was. She refused to talk to me.

I was absolutely crushed by this whole experience. I could never have imagined how quickly hate could arise simply due to a teacher assigning skin colors to students. These were just imaginary labels.

In the real world, labels regarding someone’s race, ethnicity and faith abound. And perhaps that is why I am always sensitive to those around me. Anyone from a different country or a different background, I try to show respect and value our differences. It is easy to segregate into our own communities, but to stand together as one people, that takes real patience and understanding.

I am struggling to keep up!

When I started my YouTube channel in April 2020, I was thrilled to receive a single comment on YouTube. It would be the highlight of my day. Slowly, I started receiving more and more comments. Since the fall, the number of comments, Facebook inquiries, emails and other social media communication has sky-rocketed. I spend up to four hours a day communicating with people.

 I do not know how larger YouTube channels keep up with the demand. 

 I know many hire people to monitor the social media. This would be a wonderful break for me…if I could not be constantly bogged down with so much correspondence. I am struggling to produce videos because I do not have time to devote to both social media and media creation.

If my channel continues to grow, there may be a point where I can no longer answer every inquiry or concern. It will be a sad day, but I am running out of time and energy to respond to so many requests.

So excited to serve! What a blessing!

The past few weeks have been quite exciting! There is a special committee being set up at my congregation. I read about the committee and thought it would be fun to serve on it, but I did not think I was the right person. We have so many talented people in our congregation. I knew lots of people wanted to be on the committee, and someone more qualified than me would be the right choice.

Two weeks ago, I was informed someone nominated me to be on a committee. I was absolutely shocked someone had nominated me. I was flattered someone thought so highly of me as to place my name in the pool for the committee. One of the leaders of the congregation called me and asked if I would be willing to have my name placed on the ballot. I said yes.

This past weekend, it was election time. There were 17 people on the ballot for only 9 spots. I was overwhelmed with joy to be listed among so many incredible people. I knew I did not have a chance at winning the election. Each and every person on the ballot was more qualified than me.

On Monday, I received an email. It congratulated me on being selected to serve on the committee. ME!? I am on the committee!? I was blown away that such a blessing was placed upon me.

I am humbled to have been selected to serve on this committee. I hope and pray I can be a blessing to those around me. I hope and pray I am able to fulfill the role to its fullest potential. What an incredible blessing!