M.A.R.T.A. is quite the cross section of humanity. Educational, Physiological, but Spiritual even more. Riding the rails to the airport as another morning awoke was enlightening and exposing this week. As like a child, I was over stimulated spiritually as I looked into these people's hallow holes. My eye scanned faces while my heart seemed to ignite with "story hunger". What were their stories? Where we they all going? Why would no one look at me? Do they "look to the Hills from whence comes Help"? Do they know God knows them? Most eyes never met mine on the train, but shifted from seats, to windows, to iphones and back again. It is amazing how much an averted glance can tell you. There was so little significant visible Joy. I was alarmed at what welled up within me as I sat in so much stimulus. Multiple sounds, smells, and sights from the silver edged buildings racing by, heads hung low with earphones tightly fixed, awkward verbal outbursts from a man who probably had not seen indoors or food for days, babies crying, all races side by side though with an invisible partition so as not to encroach, and conversations on cells that still echo in my ears. Stimulus at first, but then, quickly stories. Each of them had a story, a place they came from and one they were going to. With dark colored glasses on, the tears rolled as Love from the Author of stories saturated me. He is in their story too. He is God whether they believe Him, know Him, or see Him. Did they see Him in my face? I so wanted to be a Samaritan not a Levite to them. So prayers of a Samaritan heart began internally. Being still in the stimulus of them I knew again that He was God. My God. Their God. They just didnt know Him yet. I was still in the midst of these strangers shuffling through life, unaware of available Love. Unaware of a God that I'm aware of constantly. I prayed for them with intent and mercy. Praying stillness would enter their visibly fast breaking worlds and introduce them to God. He longs for them to know Him and briefly allowed me the painful privilege of feeling the need in their stead. I prayed for continual heart engagement to what His heart sees, first step towards being a Samaritan in the stimulus of their stories, I guess. Ride M.A.R.T.A. and permit your heart to become a Samaritan.