In early October, I stayed in Mödling, a town just outside the city limits of Vienna, Austria It was about a 30-45 minute train ride into the city, and I probably made this trip two to three times each week.

During one of my train rides, I sat near the window with my headphones on, watching a show on my phone, when an older man slowly came toward the seat next to me. He was hunched over and had on a gray sweatshirt and sweat pants and ever so carefully sat down next to me. He didn’t say a word and I noticed he was focused on trying to hold onto the canvas bag in his hand, which I think had something from a local bakery. He struggled to hold onto it – his hands shook with every movement. 

I wasn’t sure what caused his physical condition, but he couldn’t sit up straight or hold his body in place very well. Still gripping the bag tightly he slowly put his arms down trying to rest them. As the train moved, his body leaned toward mine and rested into my right side as he found it difficult to hold himself up. 

Lord, what do I do? Seeing him slowly sit down in the seat beside me, I couldn’t imagine that he would be able to get up and out of the train in time for his stop. I kept rehearsing the German words in my head that I could use to ask if he needed help. But there was a wrestling in me that didn’t want to take away his dignity. 

I stayed silent – watching his hand go up and down slowly toward the handle of the seat in front of me as if he was prepared to pull his body upright and exit the train. 

His eyes mostly stayed forward, but I could see them look from side to side at times, but he couldn’t move his head very well. I think he was watching out the windows at the landscape passing by as our train continued to move forward to our next stop.

He continued to lean into me and all of my empathy welled up. I wanted to burst into tears. I’m not sure what my face looked like or if he could even see my expression. 

As the train stopped, I watched him slowly get up and make his way toward the door of the train. He wasn’t going to make it. I kept popping my head up over the seat to watch him down the aisle. Would someone else jump up and help? 

Then the man held his position at a seat right by the door. That wasn’t his stop. He knew he needed the extra time so he’d be prepared to get off the train. He had timed this before. He was sharp. His physical condition didn’t say anything about his mind. I watched as he got off at the next stop and slowly walk to his destination. 

This made me think about how when Jesus interacted with someone regardless of their condition, He didn’t step back to give himself more space. Actually, he would step forward or bend down or lean in. He never pulled away.

In this brief, silent interaction, maybe speaking wasn’t really the way to communicate to this man he is seen, known, and loved. Instead, letting someone else lean into me, knowing that in a way — they are leaning into the Jesus within me. 

Reflect:

“This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.

Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other. No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love is brought to full expression in us” (1 John 4:10-12, NLT).

“Moved with compassion, Jesus reached out and touched him . . .” (Mark 1:41, NLT).

“So Jesus had compassion and touched their eyes. And immediately their eyes received sight, and they followed Him” (Matthew 20:34, ESV).

Consider who God may have in your life who needs to lean into you today – maybe there isn’t a need for conversation, but simply being present with them.

Or maybe you need to do the leaning, knowing the Jesus in them will help hold you up.