the traffic controller

at a very congested street with parallel parking facilities the other day, my attention fell on this unofficial traffic controller trying to direct the heavily congested traffic. His simple hand gestures in directing traffic made it so much less stressful for the motorists who were typically to inconsiderate and not letting each other have their way. his face was etched with lines and his skin was like a shade of coffee, roasted from the long hours under the merciless sun.

so when the man stood there, without any endorsement of authority from anyone doing that, i wanted to salute him. it took him to evict chaos and restore order. it took the nobody and initiative in him to get us, impatient motorists in order. he did it with such gusto and dignity. that moment, he won my respect.

i found out later he did this out of his own initiative. my father proceeded to tip him, alongside with some other equally grateful motorists. however, there were some that behaved like it was their divine right and entitlement.

this guy was so poor. and he probably recently lost his job. as a foreigner, his options are even fewer and rights almost non existent. he took the initiative to do this and can only hope for the largeness of some hearts to appreciate and spare him cash in return for his humble duty.

i don't know why but when i saw him and remember his plight, i started crying.

people like him are meant to be recipients/beneficiaries of my business and the wealth we generate. yet, i'm feeling so down and out now i feel mocked by the cruel irony of it. the dream and busines model is still alive in me. it still is. the ends and objectives and what we'll do with the money still resounds.

i know that for as long as i'm breathing, i cannot live and enjoy all that He wants to give me without sharing it the destitute. and that is my destiny. i wanted to reach out so badly to this guy, buy him a meal or give him a bigger tip so he can send the rest home but i was still held back by my own.

i would like to believe that i could empty myself out for people such as him, or Him. but i still can't and am still bound by my own needs and concerns.

i'm still staring at the little bud wondering when it'll blossom. wondering when what You said will come to pass. most of all, i'm wondering if i can hold out long enough before You jump on.

how long is the road
how long is the ride
how long is the darkness till we get to the light

corrine may.