Early this morning, I felt horribly.
I woke up at about 4am with a really bad headache and I was nauseous and well, let's just say that it was bad. As I lay in bed watching shows I'd taped, I had pretty much decided there was no way I was going to work in the morning, especially since I didn't get back to sleep until almost 6am.
But when I woke up, I felt pretty good, so I thought I could make it. I really didn't know why I was pushing myself to go in, I didn't have much going on in the office, but for some reason I felt compelled to go.
While parking my car, I had a conversation with a colleague and, in the midst of our discussion, I understood why I'd gone to work today.
I needed to talk to her. And she needed to talk to me.
I don't know her well at all, I just see this woman every morning and we exchange brief pleasantries.
For some reason (I think it was God), today I asked her how her weekend had been. To be honest, I didn't really care, I was just being nice, you know how church girls do.
But for some reason, she didn't respond with the perfunctory "It was fine, thanks," rather she really told me how her weekend had been. She said it wasn't good.
She shared details surrounding some family challenges she was facing, how a conversation with her mother had hurt her deeply, and how she was mourning the murder of her oldest son. This woman poured her heart out to me and I felt very fortunate to be there to listen.
You see, I asked God a while ago to allow me to use my experiences to help someone else and I felt that at work today. While my issues are quite different from those of this woman, I could talk to her about how I've dealt with my own difficulties and I could speak not from what I've heard about or read about, but from what I have personally felt.
Because of our talk, I was eleven minutes late getting to my desk today, but it was worth it. Every single moment was worth it. Because this woman told me that our conversation had saved her life.
Saved. Her. Life. Wow.
I really don't think she would have physically harmed herself, but I do think that the conversation we'd just shared had made her burden lighter and helped ensure that she had a decent day.
And our talk strengthened my testimony, as well as the confidence I need to willingly share my story.
If that type of difference can be made in just 11 minutes, just imagine what God can do with us and through us when we give Him even more of our time.
Can you spare 11 minutes?
I woke up at about 4am with a really bad headache and I was nauseous and well, let's just say that it was bad. As I lay in bed watching shows I'd taped, I had pretty much decided there was no way I was going to work in the morning, especially since I didn't get back to sleep until almost 6am.
But when I woke up, I felt pretty good, so I thought I could make it. I really didn't know why I was pushing myself to go in, I didn't have much going on in the office, but for some reason I felt compelled to go.
While parking my car, I had a conversation with a colleague and, in the midst of our discussion, I understood why I'd gone to work today.
I needed to talk to her. And she needed to talk to me.
I don't know her well at all, I just see this woman every morning and we exchange brief pleasantries.
For some reason (I think it was God), today I asked her how her weekend had been. To be honest, I didn't really care, I was just being nice, you know how church girls do.
But for some reason, she didn't respond with the perfunctory "It was fine, thanks," rather she really told me how her weekend had been. She said it wasn't good.
She shared details surrounding some family challenges she was facing, how a conversation with her mother had hurt her deeply, and how she was mourning the murder of her oldest son. This woman poured her heart out to me and I felt very fortunate to be there to listen.
You see, I asked God a while ago to allow me to use my experiences to help someone else and I felt that at work today. While my issues are quite different from those of this woman, I could talk to her about how I've dealt with my own difficulties and I could speak not from what I've heard about or read about, but from what I have personally felt.
Because of our talk, I was eleven minutes late getting to my desk today, but it was worth it. Every single moment was worth it. Because this woman told me that our conversation had saved her life.
Saved. Her. Life. Wow.
I really don't think she would have physically harmed herself, but I do think that the conversation we'd just shared had made her burden lighter and helped ensure that she had a decent day.
And our talk strengthened my testimony, as well as the confidence I need to willingly share my story.
If that type of difference can be made in just 11 minutes, just imagine what God can do with us and through us when we give Him even more of our time.
Can you spare 11 minutes?
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