One morning, not long ago, my wife noticed that I wasn’t acting very chipper. Maybe it was the blank look on my face. Perhaps it was my irritability toward our daughter Selah during one of her classic parental-character-testing moments. I don’t know. But when Shannon asked, “Hey! How ya doing?” I said, “I don’t know. I’m feeling kind of glum, I guess. Maybe I need more sleep . . . or exercise . . . or sufficient quiet time with God.”

Lately, there have been so many incredible yet responsibility-laden activities that I have been overwhelmed, and I felt tired, numb and empty. I decided to get on my motorbike and go someplace where I could have some quiet time to collect my thoughts and maybe do some writing.

I really didn’t know where to go. I listlessly drove through the city, intrigued by the many details I regularly miss at my typical hurried pace. However, this day, I felt as though I was seeing the city through the eyes of a newcomer, yet with the understanding of one who’s been here a long time. “What am I doing here, Lord?” I prayed as I drove.

I approached her slowly and smiled, sitting on the edge of the curbside about six feet away. Her face was dark and sun-baked, but her hair wasn’t extremely greasy or unkempt. Her clothes were not that dirty, but they did smell. She had a small tote bag, a plastic sack with a half-eaten meal, and a small bottle of dandruff shampoo. I was curious to know her story.

“The weather is nice with the light cloud cover,” I began. She nodded her head. “Are you from around here?”

“My husband and I are from a neighboring province but have been living here in Khon Kaen for about a month.”

“What do you do here?”

“I collect plastic bottles to recycle. Some days, it gives us enough money to buy food. But other days, we just have to go without eating. Fortunately, Khon Kaen has several people who like to give food to homeless people like me and my husband, so we get some of that at times.”

I nodded as if to say it was nice that people help the homeless.

“Say, would you mind helping me with 10 baht so I could buy some water?” she asked.

“I don’t have any cash or change on me,” I told her honestly. “I left my wallet at home. Sorry! But I’ve got some water in my thermos here if you would like some.” She nodded. So I poured some water into her plastic bottle and encouraged her to drink as much as she could right away so I could refill it. She did.
“Thank you!” she said.

I smiled as I felt my heart beginning to warm up again, wondering if I could help her with anything else. We chatted some more about her husband and her grown daughter. Then she pointed to the pond before us, saying, “You know, there’s a lot of fish in that pond.”

“Yeah, I was noticing them really stirring up the water.”

“I used to have a fishing rod. I would catch and cook the fish here over an open fire. The park keepers didn’t even mind. But then my rod disappeared.”

I immediately thought of the old adage: “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.” Here was this homeless lady, whose name, I was told, was Mrs. E, and she told me she already knew how to fish. She just needed to be equipped with a rod. I felt like God was speaking to my heart, saying, “Buy her a fishing rod.”

Yes! Of course! I thought. I don’t have any cash, but I can make an online purchase with my phone. I pulled out my smartphone and began searching for fishing gear. A couple of clicks later, I found that for $11, we could set Mrs. E up with a fishing rod, all the necessary tackle and lures, and even a zip-up tote bag to hold it all. I smiled, thinking that for the price of one nice meal, she and her husband could eat dozens of broiled fish meals or more with just a rod she had wistfully mentioned.

I leaned over and showed her my phone. “I will get you this fishing rod, and when it arrives in a few days, I will come here and give it to you.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” Just then, her husband arrived. He was wet, having just finished taking a mid-day bath. Mrs. E introduced us, and we began to chat. His name was Mr. Bhang. After a while, he stood up and left, saying he had something he needed to do.

“I also need to be going,” I told Mrs. E. “Can I pray with you first?”

“That would be great!”

I asked God to bless Mrs. E and her husband with wisdom, health and hope as they considered their next move, whether to stay in Khon Kaen or return to her home and relatives in Kalasin. She appreciated the prayer. I bade her farewell, promising to return as soon I received the new fishing rod.

Driving home, I realized I was happier, thankful and at peace, experiencing again the truth of an old simple song:

“Love is something if you give it away. . . if you give it away, you end up having more. It’s just like a magic penny. Hold it tight, and you won’t have any. Lend it, spend it, and you’ll have so many, they’ll roll all over the floor. For love is something IF you give it away.”

Thank God that He gently guided me that day, reminding me that one of the best ways to bounce out of a depressing slump is to go out and be a blessing to someone. He reminded me that it’s truly more blessed to give than to receive. The meandering motorcycle ride and an encounter with Mrs. E were top-rate and timely heart-healing therapy.

• Twitter