What Are We Doing About It?
A Devotion on Taking Action
In Luke 10:25-37, a man asks Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus doesn’t answer with a definition—He tells a story. A man is beaten, stripped, and left half dead. A priest walks by. A Levite walks by. But a Samaritan—someone culturally despised—stops. He sees the man, takes pity, and does something. He bandages wounds, pours oil and wine, lifts the man onto his donkey, and pays for his care.
He didn’t just feel bad. He didn’t hold a sign up, scream, or complain that others walked by. He fixed it.
I hear people complain all the time about what others should or shouldn’t do. But are we fixing it, or just complaining? I used to grumble about people throwing trash from their cars—until the Lord convicted me. I’d turn around and do the same thing. “Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you.” Would I want someone throwing garbage in my yard? No.
“That’s just trash.” Yes—but trash can be a mirror. We look at people and treat people like trash, don’t we? Literal trash. Metaphorical trash. Trash reveals whether we’re willing to take responsibility for what’s broken—even when it’s not ours. That’s what the Samaritan did. He didn’t cause the mess, but he cleaned it up.
Imagine if we stopped complaining and actually did something about the things that bother us. It might seem small, but I can’t stand seeing trash littering the place. So am I helping, or just complaining?
Yesterday, I saw trash on the floor. I walked past it several times, knowing it was there. I thought someone else would take care of it—no, they didn’t, and neither did anyone else. Finally, I picked it up and tossed it in the can. Why didn’t I do it the first time?
Then I noticed a certain area was a disaster. I grabbed two helpers, and in 15 minutes, it was looking great! We didn’t ask or get permission—we just did it.
The priest and the Levite saw the mess—a man others considered trash—and walked by. The Samaritan stopped and fixed it. So I ask myself: Am I walking by, or stepping up?
Trash isn’t just about litter. It’s about people. It’s about stewardship. It’s about seeing what’s broken—whether it’s a sidewalk, a system, or a soul—and choosing to care. Not because it’s convenient. Not because it’s ours. But because it’s right.
Father, forgive us for walking by the messes in our world. Give us the courage to step up, like the Samaritan, and take action. Help us see the broken—people, places, and systems—through Your eyes and act with love and responsibility. May we reflect Your heart in all we do. Amen!