Redemption Through Shame

I can’t remember which of these happened first, but they haunt me just the same.

I was once with a man, who on the surface, could be quite charming. He had the right words, when he needed them. He was a fast talker, and a risk taker.

He made me feel important and loved, but I hated who I had become.

Back then, I’d say he had a big heart. He would drive up and down the freeways, looking to help someone in despair. He would change their tire, bring them some gas, give them a lift. One time even, he gave someone our spare tire.

Well… he didn’t give it to them. He sold it. Come to think of it, 99% of the time he was given money for his “good deed.”

One time he was given a check for a couple hundred dollars from a driver of an RV. They were on their way home to California when they ran into trouble. Yeah, he brought it home to me and guess who ate the fines once they got home and cancelled the check?

But the tire… it wasn’t our tire. It was my tire.

Oh, he always promised to get me a new one. He promised a lot of things.

Everyday, in fact, up until the day we found ourselves on the side of the road with a flat and no spare.

It just so happened, on this particular day, we pulled off the side of the freeway behind another vehicle who had been abandoned by it’s driver; in search of help I suppose.

What are we going to do? I was furious we were in this predicament. I was frightened, because I didn’t know how we were going to get out of it.

By this time, I didn’t have any friends that I could turn to, and he had pretty much ran off my family. There was no AAA. He didn’t have any support. All of his friends had become wise to his ways, and no one owed him any favors.

We were stuck.

I could drama it up, and say it was a hot summer day and we had a van full of kids. But honestly, that’s not what I remember about that day.

He had this great idea.

Well, I never thought it was great, but it was an idea, and I didn’t see any other options at the time.

He took the jack from the trunk of my van, walked up to the abandoned vehicle, and proceeded to steal one of its tires.

To this day, this memory still haunts me.

Why would I allow him to do this?
Why would I have not told him, no?

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a tire?”, he would say.

He always had a way of twisting things. This was somehow going to make everything alright. And it did.

We got home and I’ve never spoken of it until today.

A different day, maybe before the tire fiasco, maybe after. My time with him is pretty much a blur.

This morning, we had one of his sons with us.

He had four children, but only one of them he was allowed to spend any time with.

We went to an IHOP for breakfast. I enjoyed spending time with his son. It made him look normal to me. I saw a good dad, because I wanted to.

At the end of our meal his son and I were going to use the bathroom. Not realizing they didn’t accept any cards for payment, he told me to give him my debit card, and he would use the ATM by the front door, then meet us at the car.

We were maybe two, three miles away when he asked me how I liked my free meal. What was he talking about? I gave him my debit card, it was anything but free.

“I didn’t use the ATM. Here’s your card back.”

WHAT!?

I felt sick to my stomach. I had never done anything like this before. Who was I turning into? And why wasn’t I telling him to turn around?

I can tell you why, now.

I didn’t know my worth. I didn’t know I had value.

I thought this was the best I was going to get. I was over 30, single, and had three kids.

He was handsome, charming, and interested.

Oh, he saw me coming. He knew exactly what to look for.

There are many things that had happened during our relationship that brings me shame, but these were the worst. These made me, him.

I wanted to share, because I know I’m not alone when it comes to doing something we’re ashamed of.

What we’ve done, may look different, but I assure you the feeling is the same.

Shame robs us of our feeling of worth and value. But I have to tell you, what you do or don’t do does not give you your worth.

It is who you are.

A wrinkled up, faded, crumpled $100 bill has the same value as a crisp, clean, freshly printed one. If you don’t think so, give it to me!

For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. – Romans 7:18

But I know who I belong to! He is a King. And he loves me not because I’m good. But because I’m his.

Don’t let your past describe who you are. Don’t let it determine your worth. There is nothing you can do that would increase or decrease your value. You don’t have that kind of power.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. – Romans 8:38

Lord,
thank you for your grace, forgiveness and love. For now I know my worth.
I am Yours.

To See Jesus

#30 Steven @ 32nd Street and Thomas, Phoenix.

Steven was just sitting on the corner, minding his own business. No sign. No hand out. Maybe he was taking a break from standing but when I encountered him, he was just watching traffic.

I sat down next to him and asked what he thought of the weather. It was a bit chilly for me.

He made small talk for a minute, but clearly wasn’t comfortable with me sitting with him so I got up to leave.

He probably didn’t feel any more special today, but for me he was a milestone.

I’ve just met thirty individuals, and passed out thirty extra lunches.

Actually, there’s a few more than thirty, but I didn’t get their names. Not that they don’t count as individuals, but not as a name to go with a face. God knows their name. I want to know their name too.

Thirty seemed like a big deal to me.

That’s one person a day for a month.

Wish I could say that’s a goal I’ve actually met, but it’s still thirty people I never would have taken the time to meet if I never followed through on my “What if” conversation I had with my friend.

All these names are people, like real people. All people who were once little kids, who went to school and had friends and a family, just like me.

1. Norma at 32nd Street and Windsor, Phoenix. Norma had her public assistance cut.

Recycle guy at 32nd Street and Yale, Phoenix. He was going through a dumpster of a trailer park looking for cans and bottles. I don’t think he speaks English.

2. Kurt at Washington and I10, Phoenix. Kurt lives out in a field. He’s looking for a job that will pay cash since he can’t afford to lose his public health insurance. I’ve actually had a lunch for him, a couple of times. If I see someone more than once, I try to check in with them.

3. Mike at 91st Ave and Olive, Peoria. Mike is an older gentleman looking for a job but won’t turn down food either.

4. Steve “Sarge” at 83rd Ave and Bell, Peoria. Steve is struggling to pay for his wife’s medical bills.

5. Daniel at 59th Ave and Northern, Glendale. Daniel is a young guy who’s hungry and hanging outside of the Walmart parking lot.

6. Rebecca at 59th Ave and Northern, Glendale. Rebecca is up early looking for food.

7. Jack at 67th Ave and Thunderbird, Glendale. When I offered Jack a lunch he asked me why I wasn’t going to eat it. I told him I already ate mine and I made a second one for him. He was in shock and couldn’t understand why I would do that.

8. Gary at 20th Street and Thomas, Phoenix. When I asked how his day was going, he told me not good, but when I offered him a lunch and told him I hope it gets better, he became so excited and told me it already is.

A man pushing a cart at 27th Ave and Yorkshire, Phoenix. His sign said he was 73 and a US vet. Couldn’t get his name or story since we were stuck in the car, holding up traffic and not having a place to pull over.

9. Scott at Buckeye and I 10 exit, Phoenix. He’s from Arkansas. Been here about a year. He came out to help a friend. I have no idea what happened to the friend but he’s hoping to get a job next month.

10. Kevin at 32nd Street & Washington, Phoenix. Kevin was pulling a cart full of cans, empty bottles and scrape metal across the street. Two months ago he was in an accident that required putting several pins in his elbow. The other driver left the scene.

11 & 12. Corina and Lydia at 59th Ave and Bethany Home, Glendale. This is the day I told my son he’d have to leave my house, for the second time. I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as well as brought bags of chips, popcorn and some fruit. Even though there was several people in the same park, there were the only two who would have lunch with me. I gave the peanut butter jar and jelly to Corina since she said she had kids.

13. Spanish speaking woman (got her name, couldn’t understand it) at the light between the 101 and 91st Ave and Northern, Peoria. She was holding a sign asking help for her kids.

14. Steve at Cortez Park at 35 Ave and Dunlap, Phoenix. Steve was fishing in the park with his buddy A.Z. We didn’t get to meet A.Z. but Steve asked if we could put a lunch in his chair for him.

15. Jim at Cortez Park at 35 Ave and Dunlap, Phoenix. He was older and sitting cross legged in the middle of the grass. I don’t know that he was doing anything but sitting.

16 &17. Nate and his son Timothy at 7th Street and Indian School, Phoenix. Timothy’s mom, Kristy was at work.

18 & 19. Gail and Lieutenant John at the canal just east of 19th Ave and Hatcher, Phoenix. I couldn’t miss Miss Gail’s hot pink hair from the road.

20. Ramon at a field on Grand Ave, north of Indian School, Phoenix. He was sitting in the middle of an empty field.

21. Pete at I17 and Peoria, Phoenix. He accepted my lunch, then put it on the ground and pushed it away from him. Perhaps he will eat it later.

22. Darrin at 7th Street and Dunlap, Phoenix. Darrin’s sign read, “homeless and hungry.”

23. Sky at Country Club and Baseline, Mesa. Told me a poem he wrote about tears and rainbows. Also a metaphor about not grieving for loved ones, but writing a thank you letter to them.

24. Gene at 19th Ave and Bethany Home, Phoenix. Hid his face behind his sign that said, “Please help.” He wouldn’t make eye contact with me, but was very nice.

25. Eddie at I10 and Litchfield Rd, Goodyear. He was sitting on the ground with his back up against a street sign, holding a sign that read HUNGRY. I asked him how his day was going. He smiled and told me he’s not complaining.

26. Nicki at Northern and Grand Ave, Phoenix. Nicki looked like the life of the party wearing a fluffy skirt with leggings and I couldn’t tell you how many colors her hair was. Her sign read, “Anything would help.”

27. Howard at Arizona Ave and Ray, Chandler. Howard was pushing his cart down Arizona Ave.

28. Syai (Sy) at 5th Ave and Hatcher, Phoenix. Sy was very grateful for his lunch, but he wants a place to stay. He asked for help. No one has asked for my help before. Questioned why God brought me to him. I felt helpless.

29. Justin at 59th Ave and Thunderbird, Glendale. His sign read, “food”.

30. Steven at 32nd Street and Thomas, Phoenix. Steven was just sitting on the corner, minding his own business.

But something went wrong.

Maybe they were taken into foster care after something horrific happened?

Maybe something horrific happened, and they weren’t!

Maybe they were raised by addicts?

Maybe they have an undiagnosed disability?

Maybe they have a mental illness?

Maybe they don’t trust?

Maybe they’re scared?

Maybe they’re facing their own demons?

Maybe they’re socially awkward and were outcasted?

Maybe they mentally can’t handle relationships?

Maybe they did something terrible, and believe this is all they deserve?

Maybe they were abandoned?

Maybe they are self medicating because they can’t afford help?

Maybe they’re heartbroken?

Maybe they’re lost?

I don’t really believe everyone of these thirty people are lazy and have poor budgeting skills.

I don’t believe they decided one day they didn’t like all the responsibilities that come with a job and family, so they believed living on the streets would be easier.

I don’t believe anything that is going on inside their head is easy.

Are there scammers?

Maybe, but even still, I don’t believe any of them are living a life to be envied, so who are they really cheating?

Maybe they don’t have any desire to come off the street.

Maybe they are choosing to live this life.

Maybe they make poor choices.

Does this mean they are forfeiting their value? They have no worth?

I don’t believe that’s true.

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you. – Psalm 139:13-18

When it all boils down to it… maybe they’re just not as good at hiding all their brokenness as I am? That shouldn’t change anything.

So my goal remains the same.

To look like Jesus to a stranger, if only for a brief encounter.

To see what Jesus sees.

To see Jesus.

Mr. Brokenhearted

#25 Eddie @ I10 and Litchfield Rd, Goodyear.

Recently I was telling Mike, before I started making extra lunches, I would notice people living on the street, everywhere.

Since making an extra lunch, they are much harder for me to find. Some days, I don’t see anyone at all.

I wonder to myself, if maybe God has someone in mind for me and he doesn’t want me distracted.

So I look for them. Sometimes it requires me…OK, most of the time, it requires me parking my car at quite a distance before I can walk back to them to learn who they are.

Today I was driving to my last interpreting assignment and coming off the freeway, when I saw Eddie.

After seeing him on the corner, I had to drive under the overpass, circle around in a couple of parking lots before parking at Jack in the Box, and walking back to meet him.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. – Psalm 34:18

I know where to find him.

I know when I see him.

I know he pursues me. And I like to pursue him too.

Today, I scared him as I approached him from behind. I’m always afraid of doing that. He was sitting on the ground with his back up against a street sign, holding a sign that read ‘HUNGRY’.

I asked him how his day was going. He smiled and told me he’s not going to complain. As soon as he does, things get real bad.

I shook his hand a couple of times. First after he stood up to greet me, the second after I told him I made an extra lunch for him and he grabbed my hand again as he accepted my brown paper bag.

“I’m so hungry”, he tells me.

I squeeze his forearm, as a driver in a car pulls up, hooks her horn, and starts waving something out her front window.

Certain, that she wasn’t looking for my attention, I turned to walk back under the overpass to get back to my car.

“Have a great day, Eddie!”

Yep, today I saw Jesus. He was there. Taking care of his sheep.

Mr. Sky

#23. Sky @ Country Club and Baseline, Mesa

I originally drove past him as I was heading back to the office. He was standing at the drive into a Walmart wearing all black and holding a small sign.

He didn’t look like he lived on the streets.

I thought maybe he was looking for a ride. I circled around to get a glimpse of his sign.

It read, “Hungry and Broke”.

I circled around once more and parked.

He looked confused as I approached him and waved.

Not sure if he spoke English, I shouted out, “Good morning!”

“Good morning!”, he says with a smile.

“I made an extra lunch today. Would you like it?”

He took my bag, but asked, “Who made an extra lunch?”

“I did. Everyday I make an extra lunch and look for someone who is hungry. You can have it if you’re hungry.”

I don’t know, I was kind of taken back by his shock. He looked at me like he was surprised I was giving him food, when he was clearly holding a sign that says he’s hungry.

“I have a poem for you”, he told me.

He spoke a beautiful poem about tears and rainbows. I wish I could recite it to you. It was a poem he wrote. I tried to listen to his soft words over the rough engine sounds from the passing cars.

He had some wisdom for me too!

It was about not grieving loved ones once they pass, but rather sitting down to write a long Thank You letter to them to help you heal from the loss.

He has definitely been the most interesting individual I have met.

I wished him well, and gave him a hug.

I hope I inspired him, as much as he inspired me.

Lord, I don’t know Sky’s story, but I know you do. Bless him today and everyday. May the words he speaks be those you have given him. Keep him safe.

Blessed are Those Who are Persecuted for Righteousness

The most controversial thing I hope anyone ever sees or hears from me is my love of Christ Jesus. That is truly the only thing I feel strong enough to defend and the only that matters.

I don’t believe there is anything, anyone can do to get in or stay out of heaven, other than whether or not they accept that Christ paid their way. Our tickets are at Will Call. We just need to claim them.

Now, until that day comes we have lots of choices to do what we please. Some are wise choices and others, not so much. Regardless, our sins or our good deeds are not our tickets to heaven. However, we do have something to guide us while were here, you know, to help keep us safe, get us through, provide comfort, give us wisdom and a bunch of other stuff to help us. It’s call the Bible.

Let me explain.

Your boot for example. Could you use it to hammer in a nail if you needed to? Probably, yes. Was it designed to do that? Ah, no. It actually does a better job of protecting your feet. It was designed that way. The same could be said of your body. We do lots of stuff to it and with it, but are we using it the way it was designed? I see the Bible as like an instruction booklet for your boot…I mean body. It explains how it was made, what it was made for, and how to use it properly, all for the gain of getting its most benefit from.

We all arrive here the same way, and we will all leave here the same way too. But how we live differs greatly.

So for me, it doesn’t matter who’s the president, or who he’s selected to help him do his job, what rights are being perceived as being taken from me, or what brand of peanut butter is the healthy one. There is no point in getting upset and have it consume me when I know…

… that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. – Romans 8:28

But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness. –  1 John 1:9

The LORD is merciful and compassionate, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love. – Psalms 145:8

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things. – Philippians 4:8

Not everyone will agree with me, and that’s ok. I will still respect you. But please don’t be upset if I don’t join on your bandwagon.  I would rather you know what I’m for, than what I’m against. God calls me to love, so I will do that.

 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” – Matthew 22:36-40

Mr. Pete and Mr. Darrin

#21, Pete @ I17 and Peoria, Phoenix.

As I drove down the exit ramp heading south to turn east, I noticed Mr. Pete from the corner of my eye, sitting on the curb on the opposite corner. With him he had a backpack and a small sign that I never got to read.

After making a couple of U-turns and parking a quarter of a mile away, I walked down to the corner he was tucked away at.

He accepted my lunch, then put it on the ground and pushed it away from him.

Perhaps he will eat it later.

Kinda felt it wasn’t food he was looking for, but that’s OK. There will be those people.

Interestingly enough, after waking back to my car and driving across the street to a QT to use the bathroom and write my note about Mr. Pete, I look up to find someone else who I noticed working the median at a different corner.

He was holding his sign, along with a couple of bags of groceries that he had just recently purchased from inside the store. In his hands were a couple of boxes of cereal, a Monster, a fountain drink and a coffee cup.

I observed him conversing with another gentleman who was struggling with something on his bike.

Shortly thereafter, an employee came out and had something to say to him. It seemed that the employee was not happy, while the gentleman with his groceries and sign, looked confused.

I was confused as well.

I watched him being told to leave the property from the comfort of my car. My car that was parked in front of one of their entrances and I, who only used their bathroom and did not purchase anything was not approached at all or asked to leave.

Interesting.

#22, Darrin @ 7th street and Dunlap, Phoenix.

Mr. Darrin’s sign read, “Homeless and Hungry”.

I find it interesting that people have confronted me about using the term “Homeless” and accuse me of giving them a derogatory label, when in fact, it appears, it is what they call themselves.

For the record, Deaf people who are deaf, consider the term “Hearing Impaired”, to be derogatory, even though those who can hear feel it is more politically correct. Just saying.

Maybe there’s a difference, maybe there’s not.

Having already giving my extra lunch away, I pulled over to give him a coat that was donated to me; he was after all, wearing a sleeveless shirt.

After approaching him and offering the coat, I realized he already had one that he was not wearing.

Awkward moment when I feel he accepts my offer to not hurt my feelings.

Ugh….

I don’t even know what to say about that, except there was a time when I was single and struggling to clothe my four children.

I would never turn down anything that was given to me. Even if I had plenty, I never knew if I was going to run out.

I figured it was a gift that I didn’t know I was going to need. I felt it was God’s provision.

If he doesn’t need it, I hope he gives it to someone who does.

Lord, please look after Mr. Pete and Mr. Darrin. I pray that what they seek is what they need. In your Son’s name. Amen.

Mr. Ramon

Ramon is #20 of the 365 names I want to collect.

I collect my names through extra lunches, but it’s not about the lunches. It’s not even really about the names. It’s about the people.

My goal is to match 365 faces with a name. If I can get a story too, well that would be icing!

What I hope to do is to inspire others to show more compassion.

We are all called to love God and love others (Matthew 22:37). One way I do that is by searching for those who are hungry.

#20 Ramon @ a field on Grand Ave, north of Indian School, Phoenix.

Mr Ramon was sitting in the middle of an empty field surrounded by his treasures.

I hollered out a hello as I approached, just so I wouldn’t spook him.

He seemed to be intently working on something, but by scanning the ground around where he sat, I couldn’t figure out exactly what. His hands were wet, soapy even, I think.

I told him I had made an extra lunch today, and wondered if he was hungry.

He looked away from me.

I thought for a moment he was going to say no.

He gazed back.

“Well.” He paused, “I’m always hungry.”

His voice was soft. He sounded gentle. He spoke as if he was in no hurry, and pondered the words he wanted to speak. “Thank you.”

He reached out to grab my sack as I extended it to him.

“I hope you have a great day, Ramon.” I turn to leave when I heard him call out.

“Kim?” I turn to face him. “I think I’ve seen you before. You and your husband. You were walking.”

I assured him it wasn’t me. I was a little disappointed it wasn’t.

“Oh.” He started to sit back down.

“God bless,” I told him as I started heading back to my car again.

I had wished we weren’t standing alone in the middle of a field.

I wished I wasn’t a woman who had to be mindful of her safety.

He seemed lonely.

I hope his meal brought him comfort.

Miss Gail and Lieutenant John

I couldn’t miss Miss Gail’s hot pink hair from the road.

I made a U-turn and headed back.

Once I started walking to where she was camped at, I could see there were three other people with her.

I’m not going to lie, I was scared.

I kept asking God to protect me. I was at their home and I didn’t know what to expect.

I handed Miss Gail the one lunch I had with me and immediately she asked if I was with county.

I didn’t even know what she meant. I told her no, I just couldn’t help but notice her beautiful pink hair from the road and wanted to turn around to give her my extra lunch.

She thanked me and I started walking off when Lieutenant John spoke something to me that I couldn’t hear, so walked back.

He was telling me his name was John but the people on the street gave him the name lieutenant.

He spoke really fast. They both did.

Miss Gail came over to us and was saying something I didn’t quite understand but she seemed agitated and set something wrapped in a black bag on the wall and said they were needles.

Dear God, why do you have me here?

Apparently they were something she took from someone because she felt they were dangerous.

I don’t even know. I’m still trying to piece together what she was talking about.

I didn’t feel safe.

Lieutenant John wanted to talk to me about where he’s from, Indiana by the way. His friend who didn’t give me his name joined the conversation, briefly. Their fourth friend had nothing to say.

I left telling Miss Gail I would pray God would put a hedge of protection around her and to stay safe, since I felt she felt she was in danger from the person she took the needles from.

I really don’t know what to think.

This was the 20th lunch I have given out.

It was the first time I ever felt uneasy while I was there and not sure how I should feel after I left.

They were very nice. They were not threatening.

I was scared because they talked fast.
I couldn’t understand what they were saying.
She asked me something, I didn’t know what she meant or who she thought I was.
She openly talked to me about meth and needles.

I don’t think I will go to anyone’s home again. I don’t think that was smart.

But I won’t let this interaction stop me from packing an extra lunch.

I want to continue to love God and love others.

Lord, please look after Miss Gail and her friends. She could really use your help. Thank you for giving her friends she seems to trust and can look out for her. I pray they feel your call for their lives and may they feel your love.

Help me to find you during this brief encounter I had. May I learn from what you wanted me to see. Amen

“Do Not Fear”… But I Do

Precursor… Yesterday, I informed my eighteen year old son, he would once again, have to leave my house.

Yesterday, I was beyond grief. I was mad. I was scared.

Today at church we were introduced to a new song. I meditate on it as we are always encouraged to do.

“I am no longer a slave to fear.
I am a Child of God”

… and yet I’m afraid because I’m not sure of where my son is in all of this.

He is also a child of God.
Isn’t he?

Is he still saved?

Could he just be screwing up his time here, but still be with me in eternity?

Am I responsible for where he spends his life in eternity, or how he spends his life here on earth?

If he suffers here while he’s here on earth, but not when he’s in heaven, am I OK with that?

He had accepted Christ as his Savior at one time. Is it still true if he doesn’t give him that position right now?

Is there an age requirement? Was he too young at the time, and therefore irrelevant?

I believe our sins are not what keeps us from entering heaven, but rather, not accepting God’s gift; which is acknowledging Christ came to die for our sins.

Is my son still saved?

Am I upset over his choices because of the consequences he will suffer here on earth, or because of not knowing his eternity?

I’m also aware that one could live a life that looks good but still not spend eternity in heaven.

Which would I rather him live with?

I’m so confused.
My heart aches.

“I am no longer a slave to fear.
I am a Child of God”
… how can this be true?

You are no longer a slave but God’s own child. And since you are his child, God has made you his heir. – Galatians 4:7

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. – Isaiah 41:10

“Do not fear”…but I do!

No, I do not fear for myself, but I do fear for the life of my son.

What am I missing?
What do I not get?

What’s Next?

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Finished my last job early today at 11:30, so headed from Paradise Valley to my office in Phoenix. Driving down 32nd street I spot Miss Norma sitting on a curb in a city park parking lot.

As I drive up to her, taking out a curb in my car myself, she stands up to walk away. Can’t say that I blame her considering my relationships with curbs and all, but I call out to her.

“Excuse me.”

Even as fumbling with trying to turn my gps off on my phone, she walks over to me.

“I made an extra lunch today. I was wondering if you would like it?”

Immediately I feel her heart swell.

“Thank you,” she says. “They cut my assistance. They cut my food stamps. I’m living off of $630 a month for rent and that’s about it, but God is still providing.”

She is nothing but skin and bones. I can’t tell how old she is. Life has certainly taken her youth, but she’s still praising God.

“Thank you,” she adds. “What a nice way to start my day off.”

I shake her hand and introduce myself.

Miss Norma, I pray you have a blessed day.

“I already am. Thank you, again.”

One down.

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I drive about a thousand feet from the city park, and I spot an older gentleman wearing a couple of shirts, and a large floppy hat, like what you would see a gardner wear. He’s going through a large trash bin from a trailer park, pulling out plastic bottles and aluminum cans.

Having past the turn in, I circle around the block and head back. I pull up close to the wall so as not to spook him. He doesn’t notice me approach until I’m right in front of him.

Holding up the lunch bag I tell him I made an extra lunch and ask if he would like it. He smiles and nods as he puts his hand out for it.

“Thank you,” he says softly, a whisper really, and high pitch voice that is almost childlike.

At this point I’m wondering if he even understand me because now he is just nodding at me with a gentle grin.

I put my hand up to shake his hand. He extends his arm, and showing me how dirty his gloves are. I squeeze his forearm.

“Thank you,” he says once again.

I get back in my car and proceed to continue driving around the drive to get back out.

Within ten feet I pass two gentlemen who are talking next to their car and then suddenly notice I’m driving the wrong way.

Feeling like a dumb white girl, I stop, make a U-turn and wave back at the two men as I drive pass them once again.

Two down.

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Knowing I have one more lunch to hand out, I take 32nd street all the way down to Washington, instead of going on the freeway. As I’m going under the overpass I notice Mr. Kurt.

Only problem is there is no place for me to pull over. I drive a quarter of a mile to the light and question if I should really pull over now knowing I’d have to walk a quarter of a mile back to him.

I turn right and park in front of the line of cars that have parked along the street to walk into the eatery across the road. I start trekking back to the freeway exit.

As I walk, I notice a makeshift shack tucked closely behind a dirt pile in the open field, with two people moving about.

This must be his home I think, wishing I had another two lunches with me.

As I approach his curb I see he’s holding his sign up to the exiting drivers.

He waves to me.

He is wearing a heavy, black, worn leather jacket and jeans. He has grey, scraggly hair that falls at about his shoulders. He’s rather quite handsome.

As he realizes I’m about to talk to him, he pulls an ear bud out of his left ear.

“How are you?” I ask as I extend my hand.

He takes his cigarette out of his mouth and shakes my hand with his free hand.

“Good, thank you. But very hungry.”

I explain that I was driving down the road and noticed him. Being that I had made an extra lunch today, I thought I would pull over and bring it to him.

“Oh God bless you,” he says.

“He already has,” I reply. “Have a good day.”

I walk back a quarter of a mile to my car.

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As I walk I think to myself, God sees this. He sees where Mr. Kurt lives. He sees how hard some will work to earn a little bit of cash collecting trash. He sees Miss. Norma struggles.

They are his children and he loves them just as much as he loves me. And I’m his favorite, so that’s a whole lot! I’m glad I got to meet them today. I’d like to meet more of them.

So what I’ve learned…

– Pack bananas, not apples. The whole bad teeth thing is real.
– Transcribe my note in Spanish too.
– Get out of my car to interact.
– If they want to talk, listen. If they don’t, don’t take it personally and just walk away.
– This took almost no time to do.

And finally,
– Today I saw the face of God. He’s beautiful and I want to see him again soon and quite often.

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat” – Matthew 25:35