It is very seldom that I have sleepless nights. And I'm not sure that I can officially consider tonight one of them yet since I've only been in bed for an hour. But, it will be a short night if I ever fall asleep...gotta love Bebo singing in my ear at 4:15 am. Even after taking a pain killer earlier this evening, I lie awake.
I was just thinking about Andre, a man I met last Friday at Lynn Park. I wonder how he is sleeping tonight under the 1st Avenue bridge. Can you imagine? And I also think about Alicia, the lady I met a few months ago holding her cardboard testimony in front of Office Max. She hasn't returned my phone calls, but I haven't stopped thinking about her, wishing that there was something I could do to help her homelessness. Sometimes I think my prayers are not enough. Surely there is something that I can do. But, then I have to stop and check my self because if God is the God of this universe then he has all the Andre's and Alicia's in his hand. And no matter how much we think that WE can make a difference in these peoples lives...it is truly Christ who moves mountains, our hearts and the lives of 'the least of these.'
2 years ago I began going to feed the homeless in 'tent city' in Las Vegas. What a site to see. Rows of make shift tents to shade themselves from the heat, the stench of dirty bodies mixed with alcohol and urine. In 110 degree heat...all I can say is wow. At this point I did not know my now very close friend Robin. I remember that she had driven her jeep down there one day. She had the back hatch open getting some supplies for the food. She was talking with a woman like she was her equal and with a love that I couldn't quite comprehend. She had a nice pair of shoes sitting back there. The woman admired the shoes and with out hesitation Robin gave them to her. "They are just shoes," she said. "And they didn't really fit anyway."
It was a few days ago that I realized how God has changed my compassion level for 'the least of these.' 2 years ago I sat watching as others gave what they had to the homeless...and I just served food, not wanting to get my feet wet. And last Friday, the first thing I wanted to do was go sit with them. Talk to them. Listen to their stories and hear how the lines came about on their faces. I'm beginning to realize what it means to be the hands and feet of Jesus. I no longer want to hide behind the food. I want to love them. Father, continue to break my heart and use me to touch 'the least of these.'
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