“Where are your Christians?” Stephanie sat across from me in the restaurant. Her face was scarred and her arm in a sling.
It felt like my gut dropped to my feet. She didn’t wait for me to recover, and filled the silence with anger.
“You said they are a loving people, but where are these loving people?”
Stephanie began attending the Mormon church a few days ago. People showed up on her door step after she fell from the roof putting up Christmas lights. They brought food, helped her as she recovered, and did everything a Christian would have done had they known.
“They have to help. I mean, Mormons are great people, but service is a requirement. The service may come from genuine feeling of doing good, but Christians aren’t required by the Bible to do anything for Salvation. So when Christians help, it’s from the love Jesus gives them, and out of a desire to help.” I explained, but I, too, wished my Christian brothers and sisters had noticed her injuries. I wished they had showed up with food and acts of service.
Our conversation moved to safer topics. Stephanie didn’t want to hear about the differences between Mormonism and Christianity. She went with the first available “church,” and it was the LDS that responded.
When I left the restaurant, I noticed a mother pulling a small child along. Her other arm held a couple of bags brimming with stuff. She seemed in a hurry.
Another man walked fast down the sidewalk. He was talking on the phone. The man didn’t wait for the walk sign to change and crossed, even if it put his life in jeopardy or made someone else wait. I stopped by my car and inhaled deep the crisp air.
Busy is the tool of the devil. If we are busy, we miss opportunities like Stephanie to step in and help from a place of love. If I lived nearby, I would have helped my friend, started a meal train, or something.
Shame filled my soul.
How did our world get this way that we don’t make time for God-appointments? How did we put priority on our to-do list rather than human beings?