To Live in a House By the Side of the Road and Be a Friend to Man

Two weeks ago I went to visit my parents, along with my three siblings, and we celebrated their 50th anniversary, just the six of us, together. It was a sweet, blessed time. Fifty years of trials and togetherness is a real accomplishment in these days of disposable commitments, and several people in recent days have told me they look to my parents in their age and their happiness together and see their love for one another as a shining example of "the way things can be." I couldn't agree more.

While I was home, my dad introduced me to a poem called "The House By the Side of the Road."  My dad was telling a story about a neighbor of his, Bishop Cleve Bodily, who had come to my younger sister's rescue one day when her truck caught on fire on the way to high school in front of Bishop Bodily's house. He came running out with a fire extinguisher to help my sister and helped her get the problem under control. My sister then caught a ride to school in a passing car. But Bishop Bodily wasn't through helping. By the end of the school day, he had replaced the hose (it was really a radiator problem, not an actual fire, as it appeared). He then brought the truck to the school for her and left the keys in the office.

My dad said, "I shared this poem with the people of Bishop Bodily's ward because I knew this was the type of man he was."

As I heard the poem, I realized, this is the type of man my dad was--always. Moreover, it's the type of person, at my core, that I long to be, even though I'm weak and self-absorbed, and often too "busy" to be aware of the needs of people around me. At least I know what I long to be.

Last weekend, we went to a wedding reception for the daughter of some friends who I think embody this poem. Do you have someone you know who is like this? Whose self-effacing service blesses all who meet them?

The House by the Side of the Road

by Sam Walter Foss

"He was a friend to man, and lived
In a house by the side of the road."
-- Homer

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man. -

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man. -

I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice.
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone. -

Let me live in my house by the side of the road-
It's here the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish- so am I;
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

What if we were all like this? Noticing others' needs? How much more of a connected, blessed state of being! Think of the Savior, whose life was spent in being good, and in touching the lives with whom he interacted. All who met Him were touched and blessed and uplifted.

I heard my uncle say once, "We all have a sphere of influence. The older I get I realize how small mine is, but how vital my role is within that sphere." If we're on the house by the side of the road, ready to receive those who pass our way, we're ready to embrace others into our sphere, even if it's for a short time.

I hope I can be your friend if you're passing by my house.

"Isogashii." A Japanese Word For...

I spent seventeen months in Japan as a missionary a couple of decades ago. Most readers of this blog probably know that. (Most readers of this blog are ... me.)


While I was there, I remember anxiously trying to contact several different families to have them continue with their missionary lessons. But at some point their answer had become, "Ah, isogashii." Japanese for "busy."


I know, I know. People are genuinely busy. There are a lot of demands in modern life. Moreover, there are distractions. There are things we sign ourselves up for that are like a huge time-sucking vortex. Sports, music lessons, clubs, community organizations. Each one may be worthy of our time and attention. But they do make us busy.


And yeah, I know that sometimes the words "I'm busy" is just code for "I don't really want to prioritize that" or "I'm not actually interested." That's just human nature.


Worst, in my case, "I'm busy" can sometimes be code for "I'm too self-absorbed."


But when we are instead filling our days and evenings and lives with things that don't matter as much as the "weightier matters," what are we trading? I think it's a dangerous drift when we let our kids get really busy with activities to where they can't attend family dinners on a regular basis, or they miss their church meetings or don't have time to serve others. Or not just our kids--ourselves.


Sometimes the good is the enemy of the best. Sometimes busy is the enemy of the best, also.


I keep telling myself, if I'm too busy to help a friend in need, I'm too busy. If my kids are too busy to go to their Wednesday night activity at church regularly, they are too busy and need to reevaluate their time. If our family is too busy to eat dinner together, then it's time to chop some activities. Because I don't want the BEST to fall victim to the GOOD.

On a morning quite a while ago, I was freaking out.


There were a lot of things going wrong with stuff I thought I'd had organized and squared away totally. But all my best-laid plans had gone awry. It was stuff I was doing for Church, and I was feeling pretty alone in my efforts, despite great support from my husband and some other people I serve with.


Still, the struggle persisted, and stuff had to be done and fixed and I was truly discouraged. I spent quite a bit of time on my knees. Should I admit that I was in tears too? I guess I will. Maybe it's good to tell people that I cry about stuff? I don't know. But there it is: I was crying. Probably ugly-crying (which is *obviously* why I had unexpected company show up in the midst of that morning. Luckily they only stayed a few minutes.)


Finally, I decided that I was going to do what I felt I should do in asking for help, and that I'd begged the Lord to help me with. Not knowing if what I was doing was right, or whether it was just a product of my own frenzied mind, I muscled through the fog of indecision and discouragement.


Within just a few minutes, like seriously, fifteen minutes, the situation resolved--to my huge relief and satisfaction and gratitude.


Later that morning I came across this scripture and it pierced me. I know it's true:


2 Peter 3:9


 9 The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward.


The Lord was so longsuffering with me. So kind. So gentle and helpful and generous in giving me what I needed as I was trying to serve. He'd promised to help me and guide me as I try to serve, and on this morning, He surely had not been slack concerning His promise.


He never is. He is true. He is unchanging. He is love. We can trust the goodness of our great God.

When You Have to Say No

Quite a few years ago, my husband was asked to serve in a certain position in the Church. His family has always taught him, just as mine has taught me, that when the Lord asks, the answer is yes.


However, in this case, there were some real complications to saying yes. Without going into detail, there were phone calls made to higher ups in the state as well as in the Church, and ultimately, my husband had to say no, he wouldn't be able to serve.


(Strangely to some, I'm sure) this was kind of a trial. Part of me wanted to know why the Lord wouldn't just let the issuers of the invitation know that my husband wasn't going to be able to do it and inspire them to move on to another man instead.


I thought about it for a long time.


It also made me reflect on something that had happened a couple years before that. I'd been serving as the president of an organization. At the time that organization seemed very difficult to staff with leaders. As president it was my responsibility to seek spiritual guidance and make recommendations on who might be right to serve with me. However, it seemed like my recommendations were regularly rejected. But I'd been so certain! I started wondering if I even had any right to inspiration or if I was just a total dud.


These two situations I juggled mentally for a long time. Finally, I talked with someone who suggested a completely different idea to me. He said,


Sometimes the Lord will inspire a leader to ask someone to serve, not because that person will ultimately fill the position, but so that the person being asked will know that the Lord considers them *worthy* to serve in that capacity. It is a confirmation to them that God loves them.


Huh. This put a new spin on things for me entirely. I reflected again on the many names I'd tendered to the bishop years before asking for help in my organization that were ultimately not selected. And I realized that the Lord hadn't given me bad information, and that He hadn't either left me high and dry. And that my spiritual guidance detector hadn't necessarily been broken. (Frankly, that was my greatest fear.)


And so, I realized too that this may relate to young men and women who have been out serving as missionaries and for one reason or another have come home before the originally planned time period, despite their worthiness and willingness to serve.


But I think it's good to recall that life is more of a "to be" list than a "to do" list. And the "to be" in all these cases comes down to those two "W" words: Willing and Worthy.


So, I guess those two "W" words are what I guess I should work on this week. And remembering that the Lord loves me. And you. And all of us. And He is aware of our hearts and wants to let us know in myriad ways of His great, abiding love.