help me cross.

This is a story about listening.

The other day, I got off the train in my neighborhood, headphones in my pocket and fully tuned into the buzzing sounds of the Bronx. I've been trying to hear more lately, connect more with what's going on in and around me. As I plopped off the platform of the two train and down the stairs, I saw a blind man, alone and on the corner of the sidewalk. He was tapping the ground with his cane, grappling for direction and intently observing the area around him through sound. I  smiled to myself as I thought, if there's anyone who knows how to listen well it's certainly him. I kept walking, curiously watching him from a distance.

I  had almost rounded the corner to my street when I heard his voice, one that sounded like vulnerability wrapped in braveness--authoritative and afraid all at once. His words made me stop and take notice, made me turn around and go back, and they were so simple:

HELP ME CROSS!

There was something in the sincerity of his plea that led me to answer his call, a plea that I'm sure he makes several times a day. As I approached him I asked him where he needed to go. He paused for a minute and tilted his head, looking at me and through me and around me all at once. He said:

Wouldn't you just look at that. I call out to God and he answers straight away! I'm making my way to the corner store, and I need you to help me cross the street. Just grab on to my arm and I'll tell you where to go.

And at first I thought that this was your typical "when we are lost and blind God steps in and leads the way even though we can't see" experience. But, much to my surprise, he directed me. Left this way, a few more blocks, OK now right. As I held on to him and gently accompanied him on his journey, I  realized that while I knew where we were going, I  didn't know how to get there.

But he did.

And he just needed me to help him cross.

Oh, aren't we all just like this on our own journeys?

You see, there are times where we are blind and cannot see.

But then there are times were we can see and are afraid.

Times where we know where we are headed, but don't know if we are going to get there.

Times that we feel hopeless, exhausted...

alone.

So we cry out to God and say HELP ME CROSS.

We say that we know the way but we aren't sure  if we are up  for  the challenge. We say we aren't strong enough, smart enough, brave enough, good enough to do what we've been called to do, that we will surely be run over if we even try. 

And God looks at us.

Tilts his head and says:

But I know what you can do.

And you do know the way.

Listen to me.

Hold on to me. 

I'll help you cross.