Lying there dying…
I saw a man lying on the road with his crumpled motorcycle under a semi truck. First responder. Pulling over I did the only thing I thought I could do to help and called 911. I didn’t think there was anything else I could do, anything else I had to offer.
I didn’t know he was about to die.
As I lay on the dirty track waves of pain pounded me into the ground.
I sat watching the broken man from the other side of the road praying for the ambulance to come quickly. A work truck pulled up. The driver ran out of the truck straight to the man on the ground and lay down next to him, face to face.
I watched as the stranger touched the shoulder of the man and spoke to him.
I wonder what he said? I suppose it wouldn’t even matter, just a voice would be enough to comfort a dying man on the road.
In the midst of shock from my shattered bones I couldn’t see, only hear the voices of my friends. Comforting. Words like an anchor keeping me from being washed away by the riptide of pain.
As I think of the dying man lying on the road I realize that my own suffering has taught me much.
I’m so thankful for the kind words that pulled me through the first moments of overwhelming pain.
Suffering births empathy and no longer do I think I have little to offer for I know what it feels like to lie broken on the ground and I was taught by a stranger how to connect and love fearlessly.
I’m also thankful that my “brother” had someone brave enough to come and lay next to him and speak words of comfort into his final time here on earth.
God, please give us courage to boldly speak love and comfort to our broken and hurting brothers and sisters, whether they be friends or strangers. Amen.