I found myself volunteering at the 9 News Health Fair way up in northwest Arvada. One of the great side benefits of Lyft driving is making use of times when you are away from home doing other things, and then turning on the app. It was a little past 9am and I was headed towards home when the ‘ping’ came. I pulled up in a cul de sac on this beautiful spring morning. She came walking out of the house wearing a pink ball cap and sweatshirt. I could tell from a distance that she had no hair. Checking the destination as she got in, I noticed it was a medical clinic about 10 miles away. I put two and two together and assumed she was receiving chemo.
She got in the front seat and gave me a very warm smile. We began the ride commenting on the glorious Spring. I am not sure how it came up but I said “I assume you are going for chemo”? “Not today, I have other issues too. I am a hot mess”. It was quiet for a moment and then she blurted out, half smiling, half teary, “You probably don’t need to hear all this”! I knew if I gave this answer I’d better be prepared for where it would take us. “Actually Kim, I don’t mind at all, this morning fate provided you a retired pastor as your Lyft driver.” She lit up. “I missed my Joyce Meyer this morning, she helps me walk
through all this”. I asked her what ‘all this’ was. She then told me a story that shook me deeply. Never once did she talk like a victim. I don’t feel that I have the right to pass the details on, suffice to say she is battling more than cancer and a broken 💔.
The conversation moved to that sacred place where there is no pretense, just raw truth. I was taken more than once with her beauty and sense of humor. Her skin had splotches on it, which I assumed was the wear and tear of chemo. She told me she was in her late 40’s. I would have guessed her to be very close to my age. It was then that I knew I was riding in the presence of grace. She was so honest, funny, smart and vulnerable. We laughed together, cried together and as I parked in the circle drive of the big medical clinic, we prayed together. Tears streamed down her precious face as she smiled at me and her warm hands reached out to hold my hand and thank me. I gave her my business card and talked about this blog. “Would you mind if I wrote about today and our time”? She again gave me the radiant, tear filled smile, and said “Write whatever you want, I trust you”.
Today words seem puny. I am writing this at 2:44 in the morning. Some rides just do that to me.
Onward and Upward,