It’s been nice and sunny and around 70 degrees here the past couple weeks in Georgia. Except for last Thursday…
Last Thursday, it was 40 degrees and forecasted to rain in the afternoon. Want to know what it did instead?
IT SNOWED. A lot. And the ground was left soaked from it all.
That evening, I went over to the house where all the CGA men live to hang out and do some homework together. I parked outside their house like normal, making sure my car was completely off the street because they live on a narrow road.
Well, when I went outside to go pick up my roommate, I realized how horrible a decision that was.
[Yea, you know where this is going…]
My front tires were stuck in the mud that used to be the side of the road. My attempts to get unstuck only proceeded in the front of my car sliding down the hill of the front yard towards some trees.
Slight panic set in. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to save myself from my predicament so I sucked up my pride and I called one of the guys inside to ask for some rescuing.
All four of the guys that were home immediately came out to help me.
They first tried pushing my car uphill back onto the street. But my car and the mud were not having that.
[Worst feeling ever.]
So, conceding to gravity, they pushed my car forward down hill towards their yard and I had to drive across their lawn over to their driveway to escape the clutches of the mud.
My car? Perfectly fine.
Their lawn? Not exactly what I would call “picture perfect”.
My tire marks made their way across the whole yard. I ruined their lawn. I was mortified.
[The guys didn’t care, thankfully, and I made them
cookies later to make up for it. So it’s all good.]
After recovering from my mortification, I began to reflect on this moment. When I did, I couldn’t help but think how perfectly it represents the kind of community I live in here at CGA.
As I sat outside the men’s house and phoned for help, I was able to witness the guys’ reactions (because nobody closes blinds at night in that house) as they realized how greatly I needed their help. The four men immediately dropped whatever it was they were doing, ran to their rooms to grab shoes, and came running out to my car to assess the situation and get me unstuck.
It seems like such a natural response having lived in this community for so long now, but God reminded me how unique this actually was.
And that’s exactly how communities of the Body of Christ are meant to be. We’re meant to be there for each other, to support one another, to run to help another when it’s needed. In more than just the physical helping aspect. It involves the emotional and spiritual support as well.
But how often do we let pride get in the way of revealing when we need support? How often do we put on a mask of “everything is okay” and struggle through it on our own? How often do we allow our own stubbornness to steal the joy from another person being able to help and care for us?
I can’t answer that for you, but man, do I do it. WAY. TOO. OFTEN.
Getting my car stuck in the mud was incredibly humbling. And rather than being able to hide what happened that night, the reminder continues to live on in the tire tracks on the guys’ lawn.
Those tire tracks, though, are also a reminder of how amazing it is to let down my pride and allow others to support me. To know I’m not alone in this world, but I have brothers and sisters alongside me to fight my battles with me. And that’s what I’m going to take away from that night.
