Pamela

I met a woman yesterday. Her name is Pamela. She is talkative and sweet, with a cute round face and a charming smile. We met outside of McDonalds, and she told me about her life...

Pamela lives in a tent in the woods, and not by choice. Her only provision is whatever meager food or money she may receive from passers by throughout the course of the day. She wants to get a job, but it's not as simple as it sounds. I gave her some food, and told her that I would be praying for her. It was better than nothing, but it seemed so insignificant compared to her need. She had food for the night, but by this morning I'm sure she was hungry again. Not to mention the fact that while I woke up this morning in a warm house under two soft comforters, Pamela woke up to the sound of rain, freezing and drenched.

I hate how quick people are to judge the homeless. So what if they're addicted to drugs? Sure, drugs are a bad idea, and they ruin lives, but you have no idea the chain of events that may have led them to that point of desperation. We like to think of ourselves as holy and superior, but the truth is, we'd probably have severe drug addictions too if we'd been through what they have. And everyone says they need to get off their lazy butts and get jobs. But it's hard enough for me, a college student with some previous work experience, to find a minimum wage job in this economy. Imagine how difficult it is for a homeless person, who doesn't even have an address to put on their job applications, or computers to fill them out on. Many of these people have disabilities, or they can't even read. I think people deceive themselves when they argue that the homeless are just "laying in the beds they made for themselves." Isn't it just a way to avoid the feeling of responsibility that comes with truly putting yourself in another person's shoes? And maybe there are a few who "deserve" to be on the streets. But I think we can all agree that at some point in our lives we've received obnoxious grace that overlooked our pasts... Grace that gave us what we needed, not what we deserved. I don't want to be the man in Matthew 18:23-34 (you should read that, by the way).

I wish I could pour myself out and somehow make it enough to fix these people's lives. But the sad truth is that I could empty my bank account to the last cent, work my tail end off, and expend every last ounce of my emotional energy and it would still just be a temporary fix. Ultimately they need Jesus. I know that, but it's certainly not an excuse to keep me from giving what I do have, and hoping that Jesus can shine through it. If people's basic physical needs aren't met, they won't have the capacity to receive any spiritual guidance.

Why does the Body of Christ not seem to understand it's purpose? The Bible is so clear that we are to care for the poor. Yet only seven out of hundreds of churches in Greensboro offer to house the homeless. This grieves me. It grieves me that we look and turn our heads so quickly to avoid our own discomfort. It grieves me that five months ago I would pass homeless people on the streets without giving them anything, and then justify my actions in my mind. It grieves me that we are so easily deterred by inconvenience. Following God is not convenient. This is hard to swallow for our comfort-driven society, but so vital. When we pass a homeless person but they're on the other side of the road, do we feel relieved, like that somehow absolves us of our responsibility? Our good intentions didn't make them any less hungry. It's not about us...It grieves me that we always tell ourselves that someone else will come along if we don't. Unfortunately, it doesn't always work that way. 

"Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?" -James 2:15-16