Unmentionable Word

Word Unspeakable. Offensive. Disreputable.

Disrespectable.  Disregardable to many.

And it makes me question…..

This word….is it part of our being?

And do we often run from.  Reject. Disown things that reflect pieces of ourselves we don’t like?

The word?

Homeless.

And I question….

Does this word offend us….because Home isn’t in us? 

And this world…..though beautiful.  Inviting.  Luring with treasures and gifts and pleasures enticing….

Doesn’t satisfy us.

Are we looking for something more?

Something else?

A true home?

Where we can take off our coats of self-preservation.  Lay down our shoes insulating….where we step and how.

A place where freedom calls from every cell.  Where we are safe.  Secure.  Prepared for more than to, “do”….

But be.  Simply be.

Home.

And I am a home hunter…..Always have been. 

And yet, I see home hunters everywhere.

The homeless.

Some come dressed in three piece suits. 

Others like chameleons changing to suit….

Whatever situation they are in.

In hopes to fit in.

And yet…..I have always been drawn to them.  The homeless.

Yet, sometimes, my head slips in…..and makes judgement.

Like, in the city the other day.

Man in his sixties on corner of the street.  Shaking.

Bones showing. Skin falling far like the life he once must have had.

Alone.

And for someone who can hardly bare seeing homeless on the streets…..feeding homeless since I was sixteen….

I see him….and for some reason….this time…..make judgement.

Uncharacteristic of me…..Suddenly, the expert on what kind of drugs this man must be on.

Uncontrollable shaking. He fails to keep still….

And I assume, loudly proclaiming….

“Drugs.”

And yet, Wise One driving heeds stop light. And looks up for….. 

The stoplight even listens.

Husband waiting. Hearing God.  Before making judgements.

And at the God Voice he looks down. Reaches out for the green he had been holding onto.

My wise one….always reaching….for the God touch to the world.  

Broken one walks over.  Fear.  Want to role up the windows.

Convinced he is high and will harm us.

Yet, he doesn’t.  He is homeless…..

And his body hobbles and shakes as he makes his way across busy lanes of traffic….

To get a small token.

Listening One holding out his hand.  A God hand. The continual reaching hand we all need.

Broken one convicts.

Hands meeting in an unspoken declaration of the gospel.

This uniting of two.  No three.

All of us.

The homeless ones.

Searching.
Hungry.
Needy.

Helpless…..without a Savior.

And my hard heart weakens…..as I have seen how I have separated God’s people….

With judgement.

And I am sorry. 

But then, he speaks……Needy one.

Four words….that shatter all thinking.  All understanding of who to give what to…..

Man’s words piercing.

Stagnant.  Shattered.  Broken.  Mouth struggling to form such words…..

“Thank you. I hungry.”

Four shaky words from this one….God gave us.  As a gift.  A lesson.  A learning experiment…

In love.

This home seeker…..begging for compassion.  Understanding.  As he hobbled back with eyes…..

Looking only to be saved…..

From a world that obviously had done him wrong.

And I weep.

We drive off…..and I weep.  That my heart would have thought….He was high.

When clearly…..life had left him…… disabled.

And yet, I……the most disabled one of all.

Repenting out loud with tears in my eyes…..fountains flooding my face now drown. 

And I wonder why we fear, “The Homeless.”

Is it because they are like us?

Separate….at least in part……from the God who can save us….

If even in a small, unspoken corner of our hearts….

Like I was….When the homeless man saved me?

And I question.  Could it be?

The homeless are a gift….To set us free….

From the homeless part of ourselves….

We can’t see.

What do you think?

Linking this post w/ Clickpraylove & Brag on God