I could hardly believe my eyes this morning. Three dollars and fifty-nine and nine/tenths cents for a gallon of gas. Smoley hokes that’s a lot of money for a gallon of gas! Of course, the thought that immediately followed this shocking price was a very less-than-pastoral idea of what to say to some oil company executives. I don’t think I’m alone in that daydream of giving someone a piece of my mind about the exorbitant price for gasoline.

Then, another thought hit me…

Why am I complaining? I should be thankful to be in the position that I can complain about gasoline prices. What I mean is I’m blessed to live in a country where I can have a car to get me from place-to-place and that gas is readily available for my car – even if I don’t like the high price.

You see, I remember my trip to Guatemala several years ago. It was a mission trip sponsored by Whitewater Valley Presbytery. About 25 of us went down to Guatemala for a week to do some construction work and help in other ways at a Presbyterian Seminary far out into the Guatemalan countryside. While we spent most of our time on site at the seminary, we did have time to see some of the outlying countryside.

I will never forget what I saw!

Most people in Guatemala have no cars or other transportation available to them. Outside of the towns and cities the roadsides are filled each morning and night with men, women and even children walking to and from their jobs. These jobs are not just around the corner or any where nearby. Most of those men and women and children walk for miles to get to work – usually somewhere between five and ten miles each way. As they walk they carry their equipment with them: for the men always a machete and sometimes (if the person was “rich”) a hoe; for the women a large basket on their heads or a huge pile of wood carried across their backs and held in place by a band across their foreheads. Even the children carry small baskets of yarn to be carded or twigs to use for fires.

Those are the fortunate ones – the ones who can find jobs.

Many walk for miles looking for work in the fields (mostly growing export crops of fruits, flowers, and coffee for US and European markets), only to return home still without a job. Most often, home is nothing more than four walls with a tin roof and windows with no glass or screens and doorways covered by a hanging cloth. Most homes house mother, father, and several children as well as grandparents, aunts and uncles. All living with no indoor plumbing, a community hand-pumped well shared by everyone, and meager food plots to raise beans for their meals.

And I’m worried about gas prices.

The memories of those proud men and women in Guatemala provided the contrast I needed to remember my good fortune. I may not like paying high prices for gas, but I am thankful that I have the means to buy that gas and a car in which to drive. I am thankful for a home that has room enough for my family and then some. I am thankful for a regular paycheck and the knowledge that I know where my next meal is coming from. And I’m thankful I live in a country that gives me the freedom to complain all I want – even about such trivial things as the price of gasoline.

I am thankful! How about you?

Kyle was one of “those kids.” You know the type – the one you could depend upon to say the most outrageous thing, act out in the most outrageous way, wear the most outrageous outfits to church. He was in our middle school youth group, and each week was a challenge. No matter what we planned, we always took into account how his actions and reactions might impact the rest of the group.

Without a doubt, Kyle was our “problem child.” He wore our patience past thin almost to the point of nonexistent; he challenged our leadership skills; he tested our coping skills. Youth group would not have been the same without him!

Eventually, we moved on from that particular church and youth group responsibilities. Years of seminary and then serving a church in the Midwest filled our lives. We lost touch with many of the youth we had worked with over the years. Other youth had come and gone; other youth had replaced Kyle as the “most outrageous.”

Ten years or so later, we were visiting friends back in Florida. Their daughters were taking part in a production of South Pacific at a local theater. Following the play, we were waiting in the lobby for our two little “stars” to appear with their parents. As we waited, a young man came and stood near us – in his early 20s – obviously a successful businessman by the way he was dressed. We gave him a quick glance, and went back to talking about our plans for the rest of the evening.

“Excuse me,” the young man said. “You don’t remember me, do you?” We both looked up at the young man, and began searching for some kind of clue as to who he was and how we might know him. After a few moments, we had to apologetically admit that we were unable to recall his name.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Don’t apologize. It’s been ten years, at least. You were my youth group advisors back when I was in middle school. I’m Kyle. Do you remember me now?”

Needless to say, we were surprised and stunned. This polite, well-dressed, apparently successful young man was claiming to be “that outrageous kid” from youth fellowship. But beyond the surprise of his physical changes, what he said next was most shocking.

“You’ll never know how much youth group meant to me. You can never know how much I appreciated how you helped me when you were youth group advisors. That was an awful time in my life, and I just wanted to say thank you for what you did. I’m married now, and my wife and I are very involved in our church. I honestly think it’s because of that youth group that I became a Christian. I’m so glad I have the chance to tell you that.”

We were dumbstruck. I honestly don’t remember what either of us said. I do remember thanking him for coming over to talk with us. He could have easily ignored us, kept his thoughts to himself, and simply walked away. Instead, he made the evening of two middle-aged adults absolutely perfect.

In Chapter Four, “Influence” of Chasing Daylight, Edwin McManus states: “Often divine moments look like inconveniences on the front end. It is virtually impossible to predict the range or depth of impact that can result in the lives of others when we seize these God-given opportunities. Our sphere of influence is no small part in this journey. We must never underestimate where influence can take us.”

McManus is right. It’s a lesson we should not and cannot forget. Our lives touch the lives of so many and we can never really know the impact we make. It’s my hope and prayer that I recognize the divine moments that God places before me – especially those that are disguised as inconveniences.

Our Lord reminds us: "Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me:"

Donations can be brought to Saint Andrew Presbyterian Church, 2700 W. Moore Road, Muncie, Thursday evening after 6:00 p.m. and Friday, May 11th from 9:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m.

ALL proceeds from this sale go to benefit the Greater Muncie Habitat for Humanity. Monetary donations will also be accepted. Every penny stays in Delaware County to benefit our citizens.

ITEMS TO DONATE:

-- Household articles --Furniture -- Clothing (all, sizes) -- Children's toys -- Books and plants -- Baked goods (packaged and labeled with name, contents and prices)

For more information or to volunteer, call the church at 282-6466.