If you haven't read the previous post, read that before reading this one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I lay down for my catnap yesterday afternoon, my mind once again went to the man on the corner, his need, and his condition. I prayed for him, though I wasn't exactly sure of what words to use. I started to think about this man, this human being. There is a woman out there, whether living or in a grave, that carried him in her womb. She birthed him. There's also a man out there that fathered him. This man used to be a baby, a toddler, a boy, a teen, someone my own age, and now an older man. He grew up. He learned how to walk, eat, and talk just like me. Did he ever have a family he called his own? Was he given to an orphanage? Is he even originally from this country? If not, then how did he come to be here and on that corner at that same moment I was there? Someone once said something that was so profound to me I haven't been able to forget it. "So many people, so many stories." This man with the wobbly gate and money cup has a whole story just like I do, years under his belt and no one to share them with.
What makes me EVER think I am better than someone else? We're all broken. We all need help in one way or another. And we all need Christ if we ever hope to rise above the ugliness this world drowns us in.
3 comments:
And these two blog posts are exactly why I am going to be a doctor. The need to touch and to love.
I have thought that so many times about homeless people, that somewhere out there, they have a mother, who carried them in her for 9 months, and somewhere they have a family, and sadly, 50% of them were foster children at some point...can you believe that?
It is sometimes hard to see people as people, especially when they are dirty, bad, or made some pretty big mistakes, but we are fortunate enough to have Jesus as our example of compassion on those who the rest of the world despises. Thanks for this post and this reminder!
Alicia
:-)
Post a Comment