It was an ordinary Monday morning—if there is such a thing—on the RICH’S RIDE Florida tour.
I tried to look casual about the awkward process of climbing onto the bike. Monte watched, hoping for an invitation to grab his leash and join the morning run. Becky pumped tires, arranged equipment, and did a million things at once so I could pretend to be independent.
The lady approached slowly with her walker. We were intent on our process, so we didn’t notice until she spoke.
“I’ve been watching, and I’m quite inspired by what you’re doing.” I had to concentrate to hear her frail, elderly voice. She’d seen us around the hotel all weekend, asked the manager about our story, and waited for an opportunity to speak to us.
“Sometimes I tend to feel a little sorry for myself because I’m older and slower,” she explained. “Watching you these last few days reminded me to be grateful. I just want to thank you.
“I also understand you’re raising money for a worthy cause.” She handed Becky a nice donation for Convoy of Hope.
Monte and I needed to get going. We explained we were speaking to some kids in a nearby park. So we left Becky and this kind lady in the hotel parking lot.
We were in and out of that hotel for three days, resting, catching up, heading to a couple of events. During most of the time I wasn’t thinking about directly touching the people around us.
You never know who might be watching, what influence your actions might have. Maybe it’s the times you’re not on stage, not in performance mode, not at your best that someone’s paying close attention. For someone like me, who slips so frequently into impatience and frustration, that’s a frightening realization.
It’s good that we do this as a team.
I’m glad Becky’s the real servant leader of the RICH’S RIDE team. She does such a great job of talking to people, telling the story, being Jesus in shorts and a jersey, and smoothing out my rough edges.
I’m glad Monte’s the star of the show, the center of attention. His presence automatically generates smiles and goodwill. It’s difficult to mess things up too badly with an 80-pound people magnet on your lap. Floppy ears and a pink nose create space for a good deal of grace.
That lady didn’t hear our presentation or, as far as I know, see us on TV. She was attracted by the trailer and the jerseys, heard our story from a third party, and watched from a distance. Something she saw had an impact.
I think, for all of us, there’s a lesson in there somewhere.
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