Photo by Nicole Harrington on Unsplash

 

Who can I lift today from dregs or rags or rubble?

"Who will lift me?" replies the me within me whose focus, inverted and cross eyed cause me to stumble over unexpected opportunities.

For that me knows the dregs and rags and rubble common to all.

"Refocus!" shouts the me within me that can see.

Refocus and move forward and ask again the first question.

Who can I lift today and, in the lifting, lift myself?

Who can I encourage? Who can I bless?

Who can I walk alongside and with that one, share a burden?

Who can I love. To whom can I give what You have given me? To whom can I give what You are yet to give through me

Who will be my brother or sister or lifelong friend I have never met?

Who will you bring along my path today, Oh Lord, by divine appointment to change my life as I give myself away?

For I have come to see that it is not me. And I have come to realize that I am not the prize.

And I have come to understand that it is not by my hand that dregs are transformed and rise to the top.

Nor is it, by my hand that rags become garments of silk or rubble turns to castles of grandeur.

I am not the helper to the helpee.

I am not the mentor to the mentee.

I am not the big brother to all the little sisters and brothers.

I am a fellow traveler, struggler, wanderer, falterer, and friend.

I am helped in the helping, mentored in the mentoring, brothered in the brothering.

I am lifted as I lift and keep my focus on another.

When I sought to be lifted, I fell.

I stand before You on tiptoe, Oh Lord, with childlike anticipation and wonder, waiting for the moment and the person that You will bring along my way that we might lift each other.