Waking up.

I just listened to a podcast about "waking up". This is something often used metaphorically to describe a change. A switch. A new, sort of abrupt beginning. And it's usually a positive thing.

Except here's the thing, waking up in the literal sense really sucks.
I'm a morning person. I LOVE mornings. But the opening my eyes and getting out of bed part, really, really lame. Annoying alarm clock, also lame. But I digress, so this podcast talked about "waking up" to God all around us. To noticing him in the mundane. In the everyday. In those around us who are "Jesus-y" and those who we want to punch in the face. This is an idea that I've heard often. Not to leave love in the church on Sundays, to do the Jesus thing for an hour or two and then forget about it the rest of the week...yadda, yadda, yadda. But I guess you could say, despite it's seemingly common place occurrence in my life, it softly shook me awake. And although my run was slightly tiring, this awakening wasn't nearly as annoying as my alarm clock thankfully.

I briefly hit snooze while showering, eating dinner, driving to the library, grabbing my parking ticket and heading inside. And I almost made it to the door, hitting snooze every nine minutes.

Almost.

After I had walked past her, a woman asked me if I had the time. I fumbled around, finally locating my phone in the black hole that is my ridiculous purse.
"6:39" Smiling and starting to turn.
"That's not the question I wanted to ask you." I knew along what vein the rest of our dialogue would be. I thought of the granola bar in my purse and knew I could offer that. But her story took a different spin. Her car broke down and she needed to get home. She also needed to pick up her baby. Just a few dollars for a cab and what not.

When I was in Los Angeles, working with Center for Student Missions, they told us never to give money, but to try and physically meet the need. Buy food, buy bus tickets, etc. So I started asking her questions, awkwardly, not really knowing what I was doing. But somehow the questions came out.
"Where do you live?"
"Could I buy you a bus ticket?"
Finally it hit me. Duh, Jen. Just give her a ride. Slow down, notice the opportunities in front of you, and give her a ride.
"I could give you a ride?" I suggested.
"Well aren't you on your way to do something in the library?"
"No, it's fine. I can do it right now."
"But it's a long way, it's all the way on 7 mile."
"No, really I don't mind. It's really no big deal."
"Well..." my heart sank. She was stalling. I offered to give her what she needed. A ride home. And she wasn't taking me up on the offer. "Just go and do whatever you are going to do in the library and I'll try something else and if I can't find anything I'll take you up on it."
"Okay" and with one last feeble attempt I added, "I'll be inside in you need me."
I have a feeling she won't be there when I leave.

I don't tell this story to make myself look good. Or to make someone else look bad. I'm writing it because it just happened and I think it might hold some meaning-so here goes. Number one, I woke up. I for once stopped worrying about my agenda and schedule. I finally had the clarity to notice a need and have the courage to actual offer up a possible solution. Number two, sometimes, the world sucks and we get burned. I don't know this woman's story, but when I mustered up the courage to make myself vulnerable, it hurt to know I was being lied to. Being played. But here's the thing. I'm going to do it again. Hopefully anyway. Because maybe once, just one time, a ride will really be just what someone needs. And I'll be able to offer it up. And once I get over the annoying, unnerving buzz of the alarm, it will be a good morning.