Several years ago my dad had open heart surgery. Just a few weeks before that, he had been undergoing a routine physical when the doctor detected that he had some blockage in at least one of his arteries. So, he referred my dad to a cardiologist. And upon further testing the cardiologist found that, indeed, my dad would need bypass surgery. After all was said and done, three bypasses later, my dad is hale and hearty. Of course, he was hale and hearty before the surgery. As he reflects on that time, he has referred to his "open heart" more than once. But his reference is more than just the surgical reference. He still talks about the surgeon holding his heart in his hands, and then he compares it to God holding our hearts in His hands. Such imagery.
There is no one like our God. I am praying today that I will open my heart to see those around me who are in need. This is such an incredible city – and it has so many in need. I am reminded of Chris Tomlin’s song "God of This City." In those lyrics, Tomlin sings:
You're the God of this city
You're the King of these people
You're the Lord of this nation
You Are
You're the light in this darkness
You're the hope to the hopeless
You're the peace to the restless
You are
It’s been said, "Be careful what you pray for…you just might get it." I am praying for an open heart.
- Sheree Yasko Hill
Yep, God thought this one was pretty funny apparently. I leave the house this morning at 5:10 because a friend is having surgery and I want to meet them at the hospital. I work with her and her husband is one of my buddies. He and I have been in the same men’s weekly Bible study for the past twelve years. They anticipated a positive outcome, but I still wanted to be there.So I head out of my driveway imagining that there will be no "slow-poke-McGillicuddys" out that early. (That’s just what my dad used to call slow drivers. Why? I don’t know. It remains a mystery!) Who is going to even be out that early? But then it happened. I was not even three minutes from the house when the "McGillicuddy Conspiracy" began to unfold. It was one slow driver after another. They timed their hand-offs perfectly. Just as one would turn on their blinker, indicating they were not going my way, another would slip in front and the snail’s pace would continue.
Now bear in mind, I have already prayed through Day 2 in our 40-Day Journey workbook. You know, the page about praying for an Open Heart toward others. Blah, blah, blah...Ya, I read the parts about "How well do you see others around you?" and, "Ask God to help you prepare to open your heart to others and be moved to compassion." and, "Whatever you did for the least of these…you did for me." but I didn’t want to think of them as Jesus! I wasn’t interested in thinking compassionately about "25 mph in a 35 mile-per-hour zone!"
Then the Holy Spirit began to wake me up. This was not the result of the McGillicuddys of the world. God used this experience to show me that it is going to be tougher to see the world with the eyes of compassion than I thought. I had it in my mind that God would lead me down under the bridges of Atlanta to the homeless. That he would stab me in the heart and make me bleed for the hurting in the darkest haunts of our city. And He may still lead me there. But first he had to say to me, "Don...when are you going to quit thinking that I want your compassion to make stereotypical and geographical sense to YOU?" His Spirit in my heart kept pressing, "I want you to love the ones you ALREADY imagine to be the 'least of these,' but I also want you to quit aiming your compassion, and just live it. Make your compassion a life you live, not a place you go or a thing you do."
So the McGillicuddys were waiting for me when I left Emory Hospital. In fact, I think today was "Slow-Poke-McGillicuddy Day" on the freeways and byways of Atlanta! But I started looking beyond the cars and thinking about the stories inside those cars. I found myself praying for the people around me instead of wanting them out of my way. This turned out to be a good day for me, and God, to be on the road together.
- Don McLaughlin
