Rain, Rain, go...

away, but please come back as snow by Christmas day! This little ditty has been going through my mind all evening. But earlier in the day...

...I grabbed my rain jacket and umbrella before heading off to work. I have bus duty and knew I'd need them. On my way to work, I saw a man walking down a very busy two lane road between our home and the school. As I passed him I noticed he was dressed in a light colored suit and dress shoes. In the back of my mind Wesley's voice was saying "Can't we give him a ride, or at least give him our umbrella?"

Several months ago Wesley said these words to me one day when he saw a man walking on this very same road, in the same kind of downpour. I explained that I didn't believe I would be putting my children's safety first by taking a stranger into our car. I also reminded him we didn't bring an umbrella. I drove on, but not without being affected.

His words have stayed with me all these months because they were a glimpse into the soul of a boy. A boy whose exterior is cocky and egotistical. The glimpse of tenderness underneath all that machismo is what I wish he understood and appreciated about himself, and what I wish the world understood and appreciated about him.

I was set up many, many yeas ago, to be receptive to Wesley's desire to help. A professor taught me a skill to be envied. She genuinely, made me feel as though she was learning from me, her undergrad student. I'm still conflicted about it being a teaching skill she developed and mastered, or was she truly learning from me? The romantic in me chooses to believe the latter, mostly due to the fact that there was nothing phony in her body language, spoken language, or voice to give me any reason to doubt otherwise.

Either way, due to her example, I began noticing how parents, teachers, preachers, and leaders act and react to those they teach and lead. I've watched many teachers and leaders clean their nails while someone else is speaking, I've seen some make to do lists, while others sit engaged by whoever is speaking, some feverishly taking notes from the talk or even giving praises via body language or amens.

Also due to my professors example, I said to myself "that's a skill I want to possess." I don't ever want to think that I can't learn from others. I began to view learning from others as a childlike quality. Jesus said "be like little children."

Today as I drove past the man in a suit, without an umbrella, I took my son's words to heart. I allowed his example to lead me. I turned around, knowing I was going to be late to work, I pulled up beside the man and asked if I could give him a ride. He was very suspicious, kept his distance, and kept looking into my car (am I really that scary? Don't answer that!) He refused my offer. So I said, "Please take my umbrella?" "Sure, but how will I get it back to you? Do you live here?" motioning to the house we were parked in front of. "No, I don't want the umbrella back, consider it a gift. God bless." He graciously accepted, I drove away and was changed forever. I wasn't changed because of what I did, I was changed because of how God used my son and my professor to teach me.

In honor of my professor, and in honor of my son, I'm thinking outside the box for gift giving this year. I'm giving Wesley several umbrellas as Christmas gifts and a written prayer asking God to send him opportunities in 2009 to bless others during the rain. Thank you Wesley, my little one, for leading in quiet gentle ways and thank you Prof. Russell for also leading in quiet and gentle ways.

I hope I don't ever think so highly of myself that I can't learn from "the least of these. I want to be childlike."

"Dear Lord, although the rain was a blessing today, I wouldn't mind if it snowed for Christmas. Hint, hint!"