Psalm 146:9 The LORD watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.

Last night Josh and I went to the grocery store. We were picking up a couple of bags of chips and a jar of salsa because it was his week to bring snack for the SJHS Edge club. When I got to the checkout line, I had no cash on me, so I used my debit card and asked for $20 back. I had no particular need for the money and it is not uncommon for me to walk around with an empty wallet. If I have cash, I tend to spend it, so why carry it? But for whatever reason I had a vague feeling that I should have a little cash in my wallet as we head toward the weekend.

Out in the parking lot we walked down a row of vehicles towards our van. As we rounded a bend, we walked right into the path of a homeless person. She was a short stocky African American woman approaching 60 years old. Her eyes were bright and alert and her hair was gray, pulled back tightly. She was warmly dressed and was pushing a shopping cart which apparently contained all her possessions. “Can you spare some change, sir?” she said.\

Now I’m just like the average suburbanite. If I see a homeless person, I shy away. I hate absolutely HATE to be accosted for money. I confess, I’ve been known to quicken my step or look the other way to not have to grapple with the morality or inconvenience of engaging with a panhandler. I am also very familiar with the rationalization process that occurs in my mind- “How do I know that this person will not spend it on drink or drugs? How does giving money to a homeless person truly help them? Aren’t I just perpetuating the problem if addictions or mental health issues are involved? If I gave money to everyone who asked for it, I’d have nothing. I already give heavily to our church (which has a benevolence fund), sponsor a child through Compassion International, we’ve even adopted a child from an orphanage, for crying out loud… haven’t I done my part?” 

Some of these rationalizations are no doubt valid, but as I stood there last night, stopped in my tracks by a real live human being who was just simply asking me for help, none of it seemed to hold water. 

“Can you spare some change, sir?” 

“Oh, Wow!” I said. And I handed her the $20 that hadn’t even made it to my wallet yet. It was all I had. She looked at the amount and instantly teared up as I awkwardly mumbled something and moved quickly toward my car. Her belated “thank you” barely reached my ears in my haste to get away.

As Josh and I put the groceries in the van, God’s Spirit and my thoughts caught up with my actions. “Go back and talk to her” He said.

Josh and I went back, apologized for our haste and engaged her in conversation. Her story poured out like water over rocks… out of work for a year, nowhere to go, slept in McDonalds last night, hates to ask….

She told us that the most difficult thing about being homeless is that she is now invisible to everyone she comes in contact with. No one will hold eye contact, people turn and walk the other direction or will only engage in short often rude sentences. She feels invisible.

But she’s not invisible to Jesus. And she shouldn’t be invisible to his church. 

We ARE the church.

In some ways, I really haven’t solved anything. Next time (and I’m sure there will be a next time) will be a different situation. I may very well have a different reaction (and I’m ok with that). But I will be less likely to run, to not hold eye contact, to ignore.

The more I walk with God the less defined things become for me. I think that this is part of my journey towards Christian maturity. As I grow in dependence on him I am less likely to rely on my own preset rules, stay ‘in the box’ or rest in my own reasoning. I am beginning to see that inconvenience and discomfort is really just an opportunity for God’s kingdom to break through.

May God give us eyes to see the invisible among us.