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Repentance From My Drive-Bys

I’ve committed two drive-bys. I won’t forget their faces. I am a murder of hope. I will not make the same mistake a third time.

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Repentance From My Drive-Bys
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I’ve committed two drive-bys. I won’t forget their faces. I am a murder of hope.

I know what you’re thinking; “You’re over exaggerating, you didn’t actually commit a drive-by and kill anyone.” Yes, you’re correct in saying I didn’t hurt anyone in the sense of what we know the concept of a drive-by to be. However, in every sense of how I want to view and treat other people as beautiful creations, bearing the image of God, I am not over exaggerating.

I did hurt these people, in ways I’ll never forget.

The first incident occurred in my hometown in Texas as I was leaving the mall; I saw a woman maybe in her 30’s walking along the side of the road, in the intolerable heat, dressed in the traditional clothing of a Muslim woman. I still feel as if I’m sitting at the stop light watching her, debating on throwing on my hazard lights, jumping out of the car and asking her if I could drive her anywhere, feed her dinner, or help her in any way. She was alone, presumably miserable, and I had no excuse not to show her the love she deserved.

As a girl, I’ve been told to use caution when helping a homeless man for reasons that only come from living in a fallen world. This was not the case. There was an overflow of traffic that would’ve seen anything bad take place, she was a woman all alone and seemed very unthreatening, and she wasn’t even asking for help. I think that’s what gets me the most. I could just tell, what I assume was prompted by the Holy Spirit, that she just needed help.

And I drove right by her. I made the intentional decision to ignore what I thought, and still think, I needed to do and left this woman, her story, and an opportunity to get to know another creation of God, right there on the frontage road.

The next time was worse. By the time I got back to my dorm room, I was crying from a heart heavy with regret. This happened maybe two weeks ago as I was leaving a music lesson in the afternoon. I watched, in what felt like slow motion, as I drove by a girl so obviously upset (mad a boyfriend, mad at her mother, mad at the world…I’ll never know) crying, screaming, and waving her hands around in complete anguish. She was all alone in the middle of a long road on an awful humid day and clearly heading in the opposite direction of the gas station and apartments behind her, which meant wherever she was going, it would be some time before she got there since nothing I can think of is close in the direction she was heading.

I knew what I was thinking, I knew what a part of me wanted to do, and I didn’t do it. I did not pull over onto the side of the road in front of her and ask her where she needed to go and tell her that I could take her without any payment or any questions if that’s what she needed. I wasn't nervous or scared. I was comfortable and headed somewhere. I was selfish.

Both of these women were alone. Neither one of them was asking for help but they both so clearly needing it. I can’t believe I drove right by them. I shot down a chance of hope, a chance of peace, a chance of healing, and a chance to show love. I murdered a moment of relief I could have given them.

I will not make the same mistake a third time.

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