Jacobs Taxi Service

            He walked down the sidewalk with a defeated and sorry shuffle. The snow was still falling from the sky, and the cool wind continued to blow on my face while cracking my hands. It was early and I was walking my dog before beginning my day, per usual. I looked at him and offered a smile accompanied with a morning greeting. As if my offering was some kind of invitation, my words stopped his slow progress. The young man’s face hid behind his string drawn hoody, and he looked at me as if he had done something wrong. Head buried in his chest, he dejectedly asked for a ride. It was 15 degrees outside, so I of course said yes.

            We hopped in my truck, which of course was a wreck. Normally I would have been embarrassed by the mess I shoveled into the back of the cab, but he after all was the one in need of a ride. It was an awkward environment as I fired up the engine, and I felt uncomfortable in the initial silence. Eventually reason took hold of me, and I realized that I was significantly older, and that I couldn’t rely on him to make any form of conversation. I began an interrogation to lighten the mood. I posed a thousand questions to which I mostly received one word answers, and we drove along the icy road. When we reached his destination, I in passing told him that if there was another cold day to come get me for a ride. This was almost two months ago, and I didn’t know that I had just created the Jacobs Taxi Service.

            Be it rain, shine, warm, cold, night, or day I can count on a knock on my door daily. I initially thought once the snowy weather had passed that our relationship would end. I was wrong however, and Andre has now forced himself into my life. Those first couple weeks presented a young and grateful kid. When he knocked on my door each morning at 7:45 those first couple weeks, he would ask politely for a ride. As time has elapsed, the asking has ceased, and I find him now rather “telling” me he needs a ride. The knocking once a shameful tapping, is now a powerful pound. He used to follow me out to the truck after coming to get me, and now he’s there waiting for me at the passenger door, leading the way down the stairs. See the trend?

            I began getting angry. I felt as if I was being used and underappreciated. I didn’t stop driving him, but my heart was definitely not giving graciously. I attempted to reanalyze my emotions, and tried to make justifications for him and I. The first thing, and an inescapable logic I had to pour over, was my own past experiences. As I have mentioned in posts before, I had seizures in Africa forcing me to return to the states. As a result of this, I had my driving privileges revoked for six months. Over that time period, I relied on countless people to get me around town. Even so, I hope I remained grateful, and now so much time has passed I don’t remember if I did. I do remember the constant guilt I felt though. It was awful. With each text I sent, phone call I made, and conversation of asking that occurred, I was ashamed. Being a very independent person, I felt I was constantly putting people out. I hope that I showed this, and I hope those who helped me (especially my uncle, to whom I am eternally indebt to for countless reasons) know I’m appreciative. I didn’t feel like I was getting this respect, but I began taking a stance of repaying my debts.

            I of course was wrong in my thinking though. My driving this young man should have had nothing to do with appreciation, or paying it forward to massage my ego. What made me realize this came in the simple conversations that would occur. I found Andre asking me questions. Some days he was seeking advice. Other days he was asking me what I did when I was his age. He began venting to me about the troubles in his life. With each ride, God began slapping me in the face.

            God didn’t come down burning bush style and give me a what for, but I felt a voice in my heart. I think it went something like this: “I didn’t do what I did for you seeking a return. I didn’t bring this person into your life to interrupt your days. He doesn’t ask the questions he does because he’s passing the time. Your mission is here in car rides, conversations, smiles, acts, and example.”

            This ended my hardened heart, and I was forced to look back at my life. How many times have I taken advantage of people’s kindness? Why do I feel entitled to reciprocation for acts of kindness? How can you ignore the mission field in front of you / not know it’s there? How dare you feel angry because you have to sporadically leave your home to take a five minute drive. How dare you be so selfish, and yet call yourself selfless. Beat down accomplished. Mindset changed.             

            I now make these drives differently: A selfless heart, a mission minded purpose, and praise to God.