There is so much more good among us than we are trained to see. It may not be very loud or go viral. But it’s the kind that shows up simply because it said it would.
A lot like my friend Roger.
You’ve probably heard me talk about Roger before. (I dedicated Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day to him.) Roger went to my church and worked as a librarian at Duke University for years. He was the sort of person who never drew attention to himself but always served so faithfully.
When I was sick, I had to fly to Atlanta every week for a clinical trial. It meant a horrible ritual of getting up at the crack of dawn, trying not to wake my toddler or husband. Getting on a plane. Sitting in an infusion chair. Getting back on a plane. Crawling into bed after everyone was already asleep. Rinse. Repeat. And every Wednesday morning, Roger volunteered to drive me to the airport at a terribly inconvenient time for him.
Roger was love in a modest sedan.
He didn’t fix the ache. He simply showed up.
Roger died a couple of years ago. But his faithfulness—those small, ordinary acts of love—have left a permanent imprint on my life. As Mr. Rogers once said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” Roger was one of mine.
May your eyes be attuned to the good already happening.
And may you do the next faithful thing,
even when no one notices and nothing feels resolved.
So it makes me want to ask you: Who has been a Roger in your life?
Someone who showed up because they noticed. Or because they were asked. Or because it was Wednesday, and they said they would.
Tell us in the comments.
Just to be clear, I think you are the best people on the Lord's snowy earth. Thank you for being such beautiful Rogers. I am teary.
When I've been in desperate places
clinging to the thinnest straws,
God would send His helping graces
and they always had four paws.
I do not mix well with people,
not even in bad biker bars,
let alone 'neath the church steeple;
I ain't one of the social stars,
but dogs take me for what I am,
completely unacceptable,
and when I'm in a head-case jam
they don't tell me, "You're terrible!",
but press cold nose into my hand;
that's Canine for, "I understand."