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Homelessness has always torn at my heart. I spent time doing homeless ministry in college, and always try to do something when I encounter homeless individuals on the street. The biggest thing I've learned I can do, is treat people like human beings. I don't always have money (and I'm often hesitant to give money out, though I always like to do something. A post for another day), and I often don't come prepared.
My mom once said to me that I needed to not give my coat away, because if I came back with nothing and got sick, I'd no longer be able to help people. I understand what she says, so now I try to go into situations prepared.
When we moved into our church building, we noticed a sleeping bag at the bottom of some outdoor steps. It seemed that this was implying that someone used this space for shelter.
Due to that discovery, every time I take the trash out to the back of the church, I check the steps, to see if anyone is there. I never found anyone, until a few days ago.
Despite the fact that I check the steps all the time, I was a bit surprised to see someone there. Their back was turned to me, and the distinct smell of someone unwashed and living on the streets hit me. I called out "hello".
The person stirred and said "oh hi". I could tell that I startled her. She began to gather up her things, and I said "I'm pastor Robbie, is there anything I can do to help you? I'm the pastor here."
She said no, as she continued to gather her few things together.
"what is your name?" I said.
She told me, and I asked again if I could help her with anything, trying to reassure her that she was welcome here, that I wasn't going to chase her away. I guess after being treated like a rodent for long enough, you start to assume that anyone approaching is going to do the same thing, and so you scurry like one when approached.
I told her she was welcome to sit there and rest, and I went to gather something for her. We keep these packs in the office specifically for people without homes, they have new socks, a new toothbrush, a washcloth, some snacks, a water bottle, a gift card for a meal, some soap, and a few other things. It's not much, but it's something.
I rushed back hoping to catch her, and I got there just in time. "This is for you."
She was so grateful, and I really believe she was a bit surprised. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She kept saying.
The encounter has haunted me a bit. It was so small a gesture. I could have asked her into the church, and allowed her to use the restroom (having a place to use a restroom is a huge issue among homeless individuals). I could have asked her to come in, and made her a cup of something hot to drink, or to sit down in the heat for a few moments. In the moment, however, all of those things alluded me, as I just tried to think of something, anything, I could do to convey that I saw her, that I cared for her, and to represent a God who cares for her more than I ever could.
I'm still wrestling with the answers. I'm still praying and seeking direction for what to do. What I pray even more is, that I would be like the boy with the loaves and the fish, and Christ would be as faithful to us as we was the day he fed so many with so little. I pray I will always be faithful and generous with what little we have, and that God would take that little and make much out of it. I pray that even if we do nothing else, that we will always see people as the beloved of God, and treat them as such.
