Feb 19, 1846 – The formal transfer of government between Texas and the United States took place. Texas had officially become a state on December 29, 1845.
Feb 19, 1985 – Mickey Mouse was welcomed to China as part of the 30th anniversary of Disneyland. The touring mouse played 30 cities in 30 days.
Feb 19, 2002 – NASA’s Mars Odyssey spacecraft began using its thermal emission imaging system to map Mars.
February 19, 2013
Hey There Thinkers,
Often times in our culture we are taught that life is just a giant free-for-all and that it is every man for himself. We are taught to be afraid of others and to keep our distance. “Don’t talk to Strangers” They say.
I broke this rule this weekend when I was walking home from work in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, I work terrible hours, so by the time I was off work and walking to my car with my co-workers it was about 4 am. Suddenly, we saw a man laying on the sidewalk, in a pool of blood, his bicycle wrapped around his body. He reeked of alcohol and we figured he had fallen off his bike. Had he not been laying on the sidewalk, one would assume he was hit by a truck.
But as we got closer we saw that he was missing a few teeth, his jaw seemed to be dislocated, and his clothes torn. At that point we realized that he had been brutally beaten by someone else so we offered our help. He wasn’t receptive so we offered to call the paramedics. He refused.
After ten minutes of trying to coerce him into a cab we gave up. The feeling was mutual “well we tried,” ”he won’t listen,” “it’s not our problem.” The guy got drunk on his own, got into a fight, didn’t listen to us when we tried to help, and then on top of that couldn’t communicate with us very well, so why should this be our problem?
But as we walked away that thought resonated with me “He’s not our problem”
Or is he?
First off, I know it’s no excuse but I’m a germaphobe, and this guy was dirtier than Pigpen. I keep my car clean and I didn’t want to have to shove his greasy bike into the back. Not to mention he seemed creepy, he had a strong accent, so we had a language barrier, and he was bleeding from every orifice on his body.
I put the key in the ignition and thought to myself: I’m a Christian. If that’s the case I should take this man home at the very least.
Jesus would take him to his own home and offer his bed, so how do I get off thinking that this guy is “not my problem”. It’s so easy for us to walk away and justify our behavior .
So it was either a big juicy quarter pounder with cheese, or track down the bloody bike rider. I chose the latter. When I caught up to him I was mildly impressed to see a bicycle with half a chain, screaming downhill, sparks flying in back, and struggling to keep his balance. I pulled over, tossed the bike in the back, and through slurring speech, I realized the accent was French-Canadian; a very nice guy. But I would argue that giving him a ride home that night did more for me than it did him. (no really, he probably doesn’t remember it) But I’m ashamed because I should be doing things like this every single day…AT THE VERY LEAST.
Most of us are champs giving to charities, volunteering..ect. But maybe we need to stop and check ourselves and risk getting a little dirty. So the moral of the story: Never kiss another guy’s girlfriend in a bar…
The Real Times
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