Last Sunday at church, I came carrying more than I showed on my face.
It was Dunamis crusade Sunday, and honestly, I was not okay. I had been emotionally exhausted for a while. My mind was heavy, my heart was tired, and somewhere deep inside me, I felt myself slowly giving up on certain things.
When I got to church, the main sanctuary was already full, so I stayed at the overflow. The overflow was outside, and the covering above us did not really protect everyone well from the weather. The particular seat I got was close to the edge, so if rain started falling, I already knew I would most likely get drenched.
Still, I stayed.
The weather kept changing throughout the service. One moment it was sunny, the next moment cloudy. During praise and worship, the rain finally came. At first, it was manageable. People on my row kept adjusting their seats little by little so we could avoid the rain. But as the rain became heavier and the wind started blowing, the water began splashing directly on me.
To make matters worse, water gathered on the floor and I was wearing covered shoes. Then something happened that I still cannot stop thinking about.
The lady sitting closest to me suddenly asked me to help her bring a small stone nearby. When I reached for it, thinking it was for her, she smiled and said it was actually for me.
I was shocked because she could have easily used it herself. She was also exposed to the water on the floor and she was only wearing slippers. But instead, she thought about me first.
I placed my feet on the stone so my shoes would not stay soaked in the water.
But she did not stop there.
When she noticed that rain was still splashing heavily on me, she stood up completely and told me to sit where she had been sitting because her spot was more protected from the rain.
I kept asking her if she was okay. I kept insisting that she should sit down because I felt bad watching her stand while I stayed protected. But she kept smiling and reassuring me.
Eventually, we ended up sharing the small space together while the rain continued falling around us. And somehow, in the middle of all that rain, something changed inside me.
I came to church feeling emotionally drained and deeply discouraged. But through one simple act of kindness from a stranger, God reminded me that goodness still exists.
Selflessness still exists.
Love still exists.
That day, I saw Christianity beyond sermons.
I saw it in a lady who chose inconvenience for herself so someone else could feel comfort.
I saw it in small kindnesses that many people around us probably noticed but may never fully understand.
And honestly, I left church lighter than I came.
The way I danced after that, I cannot even explain it. It felt free. Genuine. Childlike.
Like something heavy had lifted off my chest.
Sometimes God uses miracles.
Sometimes He uses people.
And sometimes, the people are the miracle.
That Sunday reminded me of the kind of person I want to become.
I want to love people deeply.
I want to notice people.
I want to be the kind of Christian who makes someone else's difficult day softer without even realizing it.
To whoever is reading this:
Never underestimate small acts of kindness. You truly do not know what battles people are fighting internally. One kind gesture, one small sacrifice, one moment of compassion can pull someone out of darkness more than you realize.
That Lady may never fully understand what she did for me that day.
But I will remember it for a very long time.
0 Comments