It's not what I have[.] It's what I have to give. A blog about resources--gaining, giving, and sharing.

01 February 2011

Accidental Purpose

1:29 PM Posted by steve flores , , 3 comments
“Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means:
caring for orphans and widows in their distress…”
-James 1:27

Over a week ago, I was driving home from church, so I decided to call Nat.  I don’t know where you stand on the whole cell phone and car thing.  I’m not advocating my action; I’m just stating the action I took (Please refrain from chastising me).  I find the uninterrupted time in the car ideal for returning calls or catching up with friends.  This day was no different. 

I have an iPhone.  I’m not gloating, promise.  (I feel it’s pertinent to identify the phone for the feature.  I find the person who uses their Mac product as a title for superiority just as annoying as you.)  There is a voice recognition feature on the iPhone that I find incredibly useful.  I hold down a button, speak into the phone, and technologically my phone begins to dial.  At times it is spot on with what I said; other times I have to end the call, because it misheard me.  This time, I let it ring.  Here’s how it went:

Me: “Call Natalie Flores mobile”

iPhone: “Calling Paula Flores home”

Paula Flores is my grandma; my dad’s mom.  The beginning of last year, Natalie and I prayed and talked about how we could live the above verse a constant in our life.  We want to align our behaviors with scripture, not just read it.  We want what others see in our life to be pure/genuine religion.  We’ve made changes and are continuing to pray about how to make changes in our life to live out this verse.  Suddenly, the accidental phone call to my grandma became purposeful. 

I never knew my grandfather.  I have only seen one picture of him.  He died four years before I was born, so he was never a part of my life and sad to say, while he was living, he was never a part of my father’s life either.  He missed out; my dad is a great man.  A flood of childhood memories began with, “Hey Grandma.  It’s Steven.”  And grandma’s surprised response, in a thick Mexican accent, “Stevie, mijo. How are you?” 

The calls are never long.  Grandma checks on me, Natalie, Dassah, my brothers, my parents, and the weather – in that order.  Then, I ask how she’s doing, we talk some more and I pray for her.  This particular time she was feeling down and had a lack of energy as she was nearing the end of her bout with shingles.  Tears were shed as she expressed gratitude for the call.  I confessed how the call was accidental, but how equally grateful I was to let it ring.  She needed that call and I needed to obey. 

I didn’t type this for a pat on the back.  Because for that one call that I let go through, there have been other calls iPhone misheard and I ended.  The question is: How many opportunities could we embrace, sought out for or even the accidental ones, to live out our purpose?