A Living Parable: The Good Samaritan

I've decided to write up a few experiences that I've had over the course of my life that closely resemble various parables, or other experiences in the scriptures.  Names will be changed, because these are true.....


I was pregnant with our first child when my husband had this idea to take me to Vegas.  I had never been, we were both bored stiff, and there was about  $200 sitting in the account begging to be spent. Something was mentioned about swimming with the penguins in Vegas-- and even if I didn't want to do it myself, it did sound interesting.  At the time, we lived in Glendale, California, so Vegas wasn't all that far from us-- so we gathered some things and hit the road.

Things were going well all the way up until we got about 40 miles past Barstow-- and that's when the car started acting up.  The car was barely chugging along, and we were on a deserted section of the freeway.  We could see an exit ahead in the distance, and we slowly made our way to it.  We were hopeful when we got off, because we could see a garage just off to the side.  We made our way there, knocked on the locked door, and an older gentleman, with a white beard, came out asking us what we wanted.  It turns out he owned a tow truck, and would be willing to take us, and the car, back to Barstow-- for $300.

Well, that was out of our price range.

So, driving as fast as we could (a steady 11 miles per hour), back to Barstow, we dodged big semi-trucks, and cars-- oftentimes having to resort to driving on the shoulder of the road to avoid being hit. Forty miles is a long way if you can only go 11 miles per hour.  We did the math, and figured we could be home again by the next day in the evening.....if the car was willing.  We passed Barstow, and started our way homeward.

And that was the moment we got pulled over by a cop.  Apparently it is illegal to drive on the shoulder, and also illegal to drive 11 mph on the freeway.  For our safety, we were told to turn around, and head back to Barstow-- via a tiny, little, dark road.

Once we got to Barstow, we had to figure out what to do next.  This was before cell phones, so we looked around for a payphone.  When in doubt, make a call.

But who?

Here is where my story really begins......

The first phone call went to my husband's best friend Bob.  We made the call, and learned that that Bob was actually going to be headed up the 15 freeway, because he was helping a friend (Mike, another high school buddy of my husband), move with his widowed mother up to Utah-- and they would be driving into Barstow in just a few hours.  The cavalry was on its way.  So we waited.

Unfortunately, when Bob pulled in, we discovered that neither Bob nor Mike were in charge of the expedition-- Mike's uncle was.  Mike's uncle had looked over the lease of the moving truck, and despite the truck having chains that could potentially be used to tow our car-- he saw the fine print where it stated no towing.  And so they all continued on their way north leaving us behind.


The next call went to a family where the husband was currently serving in a strong position within the church.  It was evening at this point, and when we got a hold of him, we were sure we would be rescued.  These were great people.

But instead of help, we got a 'well,..... let me think if there is anyone I know out that way....nope, can't think of anyone-- wish I could help'.  So no help would be coming from that quarter either.* Sigh.


It was getting late at this point, and we were starting to feel desperate.  We just wanted to get home. Our last call went to a man who had once served as a Young Men's leader in Sunnyland, California. We made the call--  it was close to ten o'clock at night at this point-- and Brett picks up the phone.

He listens to our story, and tells us he is on his way.  He also mentions that if this is a prank, and we are not in Barstow-- well, I'm going to leave out those details ;)


When he gets to Barstow, he is driving his wife's van.  I begin to drift off to sleep in the passenger seat.... but I hear snippets of an incredible story.....

That day, when Brett arrived at his office (he is a doctor), the whole office was flooded in two inches of water.  He had cancelled all his appointments, and spent the day getting everything dry.  He arrived home extremely late, and extremely tired.  His head had literally just hit his pillow when we called him.

And yet he came.


There are all sorts of times when what we hope for doesn't happen.  I never did see penguins in Vegas.  Instead I spent the day worried, cold, and feeling deserted.  The man who was robbed in The Good Samaritan, was robbed, wounded, and left alone to suffer.

How many times have we been-- symbolically even-- in that situation?   All too often.  Sometimes it is of our own doing, (I might have left out the 5 quarts of oil my husband had put into the car the day before).  Sometimes it has nothing to do with what we have done (flooded office, anyone?).

In either case, we are going to have to make the decision: what will we do?  Do we pass by?  Do we stop?  Do we make the call and reach out?

Life is full of surprises-- and our willingness to help after a long day, just may be the most neighborly surprise of all.





*This all happened March 31-- so the phone call could have been seen as a pre-April Fool's joke.