Tripping Up

I was nervously walking back to my car from the courthouse in downtown Stockton. The overflow juror parking lot was four blocks away and it was winter so it was nearing dusk at 5pm. It's a rundown part of town, with people hanging around, and trash, and boarded up and barred windows. I was lost in thought and hurried on ahead, alone.

As I crossed a street coming up to a long block with a bus stop and some street people who were hanging around at the corner, I felt conspicuous in my jury duty dress and heels. No one said anything, and I didn't cast my eyes in their direction other than a sideways glance at their feet as I approached. It suddenly felt like all eyes were on me.

Maybe that's what contributed to tripping as I stepped from the street onto the uneven sidewalk. Man, I went flying. My purse opened and the contents spilled, including my wallet holding the credit cards. My stockings split open and I scuffed my shoes and my hands. No one offered to help me up and there was that seizing moment of panic when I scooped up proof of my financial security and double-stepped it back to the car.

A man I know has broken his son because he was unwilling and unable to forgive himself for resenting his little boy. His son was expected to yield to his father's unresolved issues about his own childhood. His son did nothing wrong. The father could not find a way to put his son first or strive to discover new ground to bring them together. Over the years, callouses formed on their hearts. The man's need to control his son mattered more than the soft heart of the little boy desperately wanting his love.

Tripping up is part of our journey. We're clumsy. We make mistakes. We overplay our hand. We struggle through failures and triumphs. God is the stabilizing bar to our humanity. When we let ego rule, we don't feel for an outstretched hand.

I've thought about that day in Stockton. I didn't bother acknowledging the downtrodden people milling around that corner. How many times a day do you think that happens to them? Would one of them have stepped forward, do you think, if I had humanized them with a look or greeting? Me, too.

When life knocks us out of whack, we need a compassionate steadying hand. Maybe if I'd given them the dignity of a nod, they might have helped me up. And when they did, and I brought their faces into focus, perhaps they may have even noticed and mentioned the silver Visa card lying on the sidewalk that I overlooked.