Sarah

We hadn't even met, and I liked her already. 

I was a first-year seminarian, and a first-time solo traveler. At least, to spend the night somewhere. My first intensive class was set to take place at a Catholic retreat center in another state, and the rooms were designed for two. You could pay a separate fee to have a private room, but I was an unemployed dreamer on a shoestring budget, only able to pursue my Master's by the grace and goodness of God. A private room was out of the question. 

I remembered what it was like to share a room with a stranger from my freshman year of college. My roommate back then became one of my best friends, but I was so overwhelmed by the enormity of the undertaking of really going back - as a female in an unaffirming congregation - to get a Master of Divinity. I hadn't met any of these seminary folks yet. I wasn't sure what kind of experience I would have. And now, I have to 1) drive myself to another state with 2) a suitcase that I'd packed myself to 3) stay for an entire week and now, 4) in a room with a stranger. The mere thought of it all knocked the wind right out of me. 

And then, this: 

"There is only one other female scheduled to take the course this time around, and she has requested - and paid for - a private room." By sheer dumb luck, then, I would also be getting a private room. At no extra cost to me. 

One burden off my shoulders. 

As it turned out, Sarah was freshly pregnant for the first time, and it wasn't an entirely smooth experience for her. She had morning sickness. She correctly predicted that she would spend most, if not all, mornings of that week vomiting. And, well, that makes one want a private room.

No doubt, there was at least a hint of consideration for me in her decision, but Sarah was primarily taking care of herself in making that decision. She wanted a private space. She needed a private space. For her own well-being, she needed to be able to take of herself in the most optimal way. So she paid for a private room. 

I don't know if she knew how much that decision also took care of me at a time when I was feeling so uncertain and also desperately needed my private space that week. (I would not know how much I needed that private space until a couple of days in, but boy, did it turn out to be a tremendous blessing.) 

I am someone who doesn't always take care of myself. I mean, I do, but I don't prioritize my own well-being. I am known for going above and beyond to take care of others, always, as the Bible says, "considering others" more highly than myself. I will go to the ends of the earth to take care of someone else, to give them what they seem to need, to take into consideration the impact that my decisions will have on them. 

But maybe there's something to taking care of myself, too. 

Sarah didn't know me. We had never met. I didn't know her name, so I'm not sure that she even knew mine. She simply made a decision to take care of herself and in doing so, she gave me a great gift. 

It makes me wonder what gifts I might be giving to others if I choose to take care of myself. Others I haven't even met yet. Others I don't know. Others who don't even know me. What impact might I have on the world, that I could not have possibly predicted, if I simply choose to do what God leads me to do as the best thing for me? 

It's something to think about.