A brief glance was all it was really. Abby and I were spending the day in Philly, walking the streets and in that moment, hoping to visit The Simple Way. Searching for Kayla, our contact from there, we rather quickly walked past.
They were a simple family. She sat crocheting a scarf, while he cleaned a fishing pole. Their child sat in a stroller nearby, watching the world with his dull eyes. Surrounding them were several very random items. Clothes were piled neatly in a shopping cart, a small table displayed their wares, and a basket of children’s books completed the scene.
They were homeless.
They were young.
Realizing we were walking the wrong way, we attempted to make a little u-turn, walking past them again. As my eyes swept over them once more, the child caught my attention. He seemed so innocent, yet his dirty, grimy face gave away the poverty that surrounded him.
As our steps carried us away from them, something twisted inside me that hurt. This gypsy-looking family needed more than just a couple dollars from someone who felt empathy. Even the thought of saying a simple prayer for them felt so cheap. “But what?” I ask myself, “What is it that they really need?” Is it a second chance at life and dreams that have long been shattered? Someone who can look out for them, give them that second chance, and see them through?
The easy answer is that they need Jesus, and the love and peace that He has to give them. But in truth, who is going to really BE Jesus to them? We can give them a couple dollars, some good, witness-y like speeches, and then wish them good luck and walk away.
But have we really cared for them?
What are we willing to do for someone who doesn’t benefit us at all, who can’t pay us back, and who might not even seem to like us?
Those are just some of the questions I have been wrestling with and seem no closer to an answer. We are to be the hands and feet of Jesus, right? So in practical terms, in our ordinary, everyday lives, what does being His hands and feet really mean?
And once we have that question answered, how do we go about living as such?
I’ve bombarded this post with questions, but they come from the wrestling inside, and I wonder how long I can ignore the needs in front of me.
It’s not that I don’t have eyes to see.
It’s the terrible truth that I haven’t even tried to see.
But perhaps I’m not alone. Perhaps I’m not the only one that has nursed my blindness for far too long. I wonder if this is the time we quit saving the on-street witnessing/prayer walking until the mission trip. More than likely, it requires individual action, and desperately seeking His heart.
It’s inspiring to read about the gentleness of Mother Teresa, the boldness of William Booth, and the passion of Hudson Taylor.
But maybe, these qualities are actually alive in our own hearts.
Perhaps they lie dormant under the surface of our lives, crying to be free.
So where do we start?
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