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The Stranger on the Shoulder

A story not just about kindness, but about who we call “neighbor” and what love costs.


A man was driving down the interstate late at night.


coming home from work, tired, alone.

Then out of nowhere, he’s jumped.

Car jacked. Wallet gone. Phone smashed.

Left bleeding on the shoulder of the road.

Not long after, a pastor in a clean SUV drives by.

Slows down. Sees the guy.

Checks the time. Speeds off.


“It’s too dangerous to stop here.
And I’ve got a sermon to write.”


Then a nonprofit leader drives by.

They look. Feel bad.

But they’ve got a fundraiser in 30 minutes.


“I’ll say a prayer,” they mutter.
And keep going.


Then… a third car pulls over.

It’s a tattooed mechanic in an old beat-up truck.

Someone the man on the ground would’ve normally avoided.


He sees the guy.

Parks.

Gets out.

No questions. No judgment.

He bandages him up with an old hoodie.

Drives him to the ER.

Covers the bill with his last $300.


Leaves a note:


“If he needs more help, call me.”


Moral:

The question isn’t “Who is my neighbor?”

It’s:


Will I be a neighbor when it costs me something?

Questions to Reflect On


  • Who would you expect to help you if you were stranded? Who would you ignore?
  • Have you ever crossed the street to avoid someone else's pain?
  • What kind of person do you instinctively think isn't your neighbor?
  • What would it look like to love beyond comfort, beyond tribe, beyond assumptions?
  • If you were on the ground, who would you hope would stop?



Truth is sometimes packaged as rigid, controlling, and closed. To accept a set of beliefs uncritically.


  • It says, “Believe this or else.”
  • It offers all the answers, demands agreement, and claims sole ownership of what’s right.
  • It builds walls, controls behavior, and creates followers.


But real truth, living truth, invites.


It says, “Here’s what I’ve found. What does it stir in you?”

It doesn’t demand answers; it awakens better questions.

It doesn’t try to control you, it helps you remember who you really are.


Let’s seek it together.

Let's honor autonomy.


It doesn’t create followers.

It calls forth image-bearers.