For almost two months I have managed to keep this blog from being personal in almost every way, aside from my own bias that frames what inherently is the essence of my "conceptualizations." However, in light of not being particularly inspired toward one thought (there are many topics I contemplated over the course of the week, but was unable to settle on one), I have decided to share a spiritual experience of my own, in hopes that the reader will be able to apply its principles.
Many of you know that I will soon be moving away from Utah, to a new career in the Philadelphia area. A couple of Mondays ago I was at the post office sending off some final forms in connection with the new job, when a grizzled man started talking to me, trying to be my friend. I was cordial with him, but soon realized he was asking for money to fix the radiator hose on his Chevy Silverado that was broken down somewhere along the highway. He only needed about $6, and so I reluctantly searched my wallet, and gave him a dollar, as that was all that I was willing to offer. However, he must have seen the $20 bill also inside, and pleaded that I go to the register to make change. I again did so with some reluctance, wondering why I had just contributed to what was likely a couple packs of cigarettes or a bottle of vodka.
Curious and a little incredulous, I designed to follow the man after he walked out of the post office, knowing that smoke and liquor shops lied just blocks away. I began to tail him in my car, and passed by as he crossed over Provo's main drag. However, as I rounded the block to catch back up, he was nowhere to be seen. I rounded the block again, paying close attention to the insides of the shoppes, but could still not find the man with my $6. I then got this feeling that my search was absolutely ridiculous, and so returned home without a knowledge of how he used the donation.
Sitting at home, I was left with time to ponder on the things that had transpired. My first thoughts were that I was getting soft, and that I should have stood my ground to this man who looked an addict, and likely was one. But then thoughts of the Savior flooded my mind, and especially of the old Christian tale of the man who prepared a feast for the Lord, only to push Him away in the form of beggars that came by the man's door.
Was this experience a test? Undoubetdly it was in some way. Likely it was a precursor to greater sacrifice that I will have to make in the name of Christ and of being Christlike.
Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.
--Revelation 3:20
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