Posts Tagged ‘ministy’

Sometimes, when humanity strikes me, I become lonely. Grappling at the love of God with no avail for the putrid lack of righteousness that inhabits my flesh.
I often feel full of contempt.

I was sitting in my dorm and I began to think about Love.
How we are all searching for it.
How it only comes from God.
How we often reject God, and therefore reject the love that we so desire.
But we who have been transformed by the Love of God, are called to share that love with others.
With out Love, we are nothing.

So I decided to connect myself to the source, and overflow into others.
Like a branch is to its vine, so i wanted to connect myself with the love of God, producing a fruit that others could benefit from.

So. I went to Target.
I found an old woman sitting by herself eating a bagel. I asked if I could sit with her. She seemed very pleased, and very lonely. She talked about numbers and accounting… the most boring thing in the world.
At the end of her bagel, I thanked her for her time and moved on.

I still felt like that wasn’t enough. I began to chase a woman down that worked there. I ended up in the infant shoe section, and she finally turned around and looked at me.
“Can I help you?” She thought I was crazy.
“Nope… just looking around…” At infant shoes? I felt crazy.

I picked up a few things that I needed and headed to the cash register.
DEFEAT! It seemed that my prayer for God to show me someone to love went unanswered.

Then I saw her. A woman, waiting in line with a look of disgust on her face. She grabbed her perfectly pigtailed child close to her, and smoothed her own golden hair with the ends of her manicured nails.
I got out of line and started walking towards her.
Then I walked right past her. I’m sure God loved her, but someone else was going to have to show it to her because I went after the object of her disgust.

Another woman with her hair in dreadlocks, a few rotten teeth, a “shirt” held together with string (and failing at its job), and her feet were wrapped up in scrap cloth, walked into Target looking like she had just walked out of a dust bowl.

“What are you shopping for?”
“Shoes! Ive been in Dallas ghettos, Houston ghettos.. but never in my life has someone stolen my shoes from me while I was sleeping. I thought this was suppose to be a nice town, with cowboys.”
“Well, Hey! I have a gift card, I would love to buy those shoes for you.”

She stopped and looked at me.
Her smell… caressed me sourly.
“Uh, okay” she said reluctantly.

I don’t know what most people think homeless people are like. But they usually do not want your hand outs…  but they usually still take them.

I would describe her further… but I don’t even think that a picture would do her justice. She needed more than just words of love.. she needed a shower.

It was quite fun shopping with her. It felt like a spectator sport. I’ve never had so many funny looks in my life. I guess its okay to help homeless people on the streets, but to bring them into “our” territory… well that’s something else.
IT WAS VICTORIOUS! I bought her two sports bras!!
Along with new pants, shirt, socks, and shoes.

I let her talk. She told me about her lesbian friends… (things that make you go “ugh!”) And how she was trying to raise awareness for the Native Americans, how she usually just lives on reservations.

We checked out and she left. I checked out my own things separately so i could give her the receipt.

I met her outside on a bench as she put on her new shoes. They were size 4… she had no toes! I’m serious! What happened to them??? I don’t know.
I don’t know how homelessness could steal your toes. Its beyond me.
Maybe they froze off! All of them? She still had her fingers. <sigh>
I’m so blessed.

I asked her how I could pray for her. She said to pray for the Indians. And her husband in jail that gets raped 6 times a day because he’s an Indian, who was sent to jail for murder after he was caught stealing a candy bar from a drug store.
<sigh> I am so blessed.

I talked to her more as she puffed her cigarette. She thanked me a thousand times. I told her that I couldn’t help but Love her because God had Loved me, and that I hoped she found that love more than anything else.

As I stood up to leave, I saw a boy, around 17, sitting at the next bench who was apparently listening to the conversation. He had a jaded cigarette in his hand, and what looked like a tears in his eye. I smiled at him brightly as I walked by.

As I got in my car to leave, I had the overwhelming feeling that God had not sent me to help Lili, the homeless woman, but that Boy.

Where ever he is, I hope that Christ is there also.
God is so good.


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