Loving the Invisible

It was a late, dark night as I left the restaurant, and the parking lot was empty. As I made my way to my car I scanned around me, checking to make sure there was nothing out of the ordinary.  In the corner of my eye I caught movement, and turned warily to my left.  There I saw a dark, hunched over shadow coming towards me.  His clothes were tattered and dirty, and he was staggering.  I was immediately on guard.  In theory, I don’t automatically assume the worst.  In practicality, I often do.

I fumbled for my keys as I tried to juggle the leftovers, but I failed to get them out before he was beside me.  I gave him a once over, trying to assess his intentions.  My gut decision was to be careful, but not to be frightened.  He called out to me.

“Help me, help me please, I need help with my razor”.

His razor?  Now I was a bit worried.  He wanted me to help with a razor blade? But I took a deep breath and threw a prayer up to heaven.  I had nothing to be worried about, I thought to myself … I had felt safe a second ago.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He reached out his hand, which he had previously been cradling against him.  It was marred and crippled.

“See, I have this crippled hand, I can’t do anything with it, it stops me, and I just need help with my razor, it’s cold out, I want it up”.

As he gestured down, I realized that by razor, he meant his zipper.  He was cold, and just wanted his zipper done up.  Embarrassment, shame, and yet, compassion and love came over me all at once. Such a simple thing, the ability to use my own working hand to pull the tab up on a zipper.  I put my food on my car and reached out, fumbling in my awkwardness over the situation.  I did it up, and asked him if it was good enough.  He smiled at me.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you.  Have a good evening.”

And he was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

I got into my car and sat still for a moment.  My inner monologue was jumping from thought to thought.  I had judged him.  I had known right away that there was nothing to fear, yet I still chose to ignore him.  He needed help.  I let him leave, too stunned with my own realizations to see if there was more I could do.

Had I been an example of God?  Had I shown His love?

Over the next few days, I thought about my interaction with this man.  I discussed it with friends who like I do, have a previous history of working with the homeless, in the nearby community and global outreaches.  (Which makes me even more aghast at my reaction to the man in the parking lot.  It’s not as though talking to those living on the streets is a new experience.)  The more we talked, the more I began to realize how I view helping those who have less than me.

I thought I knew how to help

Most of the time, when it comes to helping the homeless, I believe that giving things is the solution.  Be it material possessions, such as clothes, or food, or even giving of non material things, such as my time, and my attention.  I have preached love for years; that engaging, listening, and spending time with these people is the best way to help.

And yet in reality, I spend most of the time only giving and doing.  Handing out a sandwich, a pair of socks, slopping food into a bowl over a counter, never making more than a brief effort to have a conversation.

Yes, of course I talked to those I was interacting with, I asked questions, I listened.  I was listening for that one sentence that would open a door to have a real discussion, an opportunity to really meet a need.  But I did it with a “meet a need and move onto the next” mentality.  Is this how we show God’s love?  Is this how we become a living example of Jesus to these people?

The intentions behind actions

I want to suggest these things are not the ONLY part of loving people.  While practicality in serving others is an important part of the equation, it does not make up the whole.  It is the intention and the motive BEHIND the practicality that will transform the work you are doing.  The intention to love and help is what will build the relationships between you and the people you are serving.

Relationship is a must.  Not just a quick conversation in which you pilfer out the facts you need to meet a need and move on.  Not a brief conversation in which your underlying motives is conversion.  Relationship needs to be your primary desire in your everyday thinking.  If your aim is to go downtown, and your goal is to talk to people, it is a good start, but there is room to grow.

All of this thinking and praying has lead to me realize that I need to change my daily intentions in life. My goal should not be to engage with these people on a specific day, at a specific time, in a specific situation, but every day, at any time, for any reason at all. My goal needs to revolve around engaging in conversations that will bring about change; conversations that will encourage and inspire those I talk with to live their life to the fullest.

Like anyone else, homeless people long for intimacy.  They long to feel connected to the world, to those around them.  Author Erwin McManus puts it well: “All of us have this craving to belong, to connect.” (watch Erwin speak on this idea. )

Long Term Changes

I want to help transform lives, producing long-term changes, not just giving them a bottle of water and pointing them to a shelter.  Offering encouragement and understanding, along with useful resources is what will make a difference. I need to give my time, and any services that I can with a willing heart, full of love, overflowing with respect.

I have been convicted of this.  It has been a long time since I gave wholly of myself for more than an hour at most.  It took God using a homeless man, who spoke to me plainly, to show me how much room there is in my life to serve, and how much work I have left to do.

My calling is life long, my goals are God’s.  My work is just beginning.

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