Last night, I watched them file in. There were 10 in all. They had been transported from the streets of Nashville, their home night after night, to the doors of our church. Some walked in looking so thankful. One or two were quite young and looked almost frightened. Bitter? Yes, one or two looked so ravaged by their lifestyle that they were numb. Joyful? Yes, I even saw joy in the faces of one or two.
We fed them -- meatloaf, green beans, mashed potatoes, rolls, cake and peach cobbler with ice cream. We served them. We called them by name. I passed Carlos at one point and said, "Carlos, can I get you anything else?" He looked up at me almost with tears in his eyes and said, "No thank you, Ma'am." I wondered how long it had been since anyone called him by name. What tendered his heart so? Hearing his name?
I served and ate with Wade. A native of Houston, Texas who really didn't even have a good reason for being in Nashville other than the fact that he had driven through years ago and stopped for awhile. Wade was a hard man. He didn't seem too thrilled with children and said that the world was too bad of a place to bring children into it. When I tried to strike up conversations with him about places he had been and his family, he honestly seemed really irritated. But I found out that he did have a mother who, until she died, told him about Jesus and prayed for him. So I'm praying for Wade. I'm praying that with that kind of training from his childhood, that he will turn back to it when he is old.
After dinner, we led them upstairs and they began to look for some warmer clothes in some donations that had been provided. I chuckled when one man walked in beaming at the new Tommy Hilfiger t-shirt he had found. Then I was saddened by the fact that we are so privileged that when it comes time to donate clothes to the homeless we only have designer clothes to give. What spoiled children we are!
Then we worshiped! We sang "How Great is Our God!" We belted out "Amazing Grace!" Some sang along. Some didn't. Living a life that has definitely dealt them a heavy hand, I wondered if they could even fathom His goodness, let alone His greatness. I prayed that they would see a glimpse of Him in our praises.
It was an emotional evening for me. I wondered in all the noise of the street could they hear His voice? I hoped that in the quietness of our worship center, away from the distresses and distractions, that they could hear Him whispering "Come home, if you're tired and weary...come home! The Father is waiting to welcome His own and you've been gone so long. Come home."
The experience was a GodStop, for I knew that at least in that moment of time I was fulfilling the mandate to be the hands and feet of Jesus. But I have to tell you that I also came away sad because of all the missed opportunities in my life to experience that -- the times that I've been too busy or too "whatever else" to get involved. I knew that through these men and their homelessness God was stopping me to say, "This is what it is all about and the Body of Christ, you included my dear, better get busy!"
"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'" (Matthew 25:35-40)
After we left and headed home, my son and I were alone in the car. He was quiet and I just sensed that he had something on his mind. He asked me where would the men go after the service. I explained that they would sleep at our church and then we would take them back home the next day. He asked where their home was. I tried to explain that they were homeless and there were churches and missions that would help them night after night. He said, "Do you think they know Jesus?" And I said that I thought that some did and maybe one day all of them would. He asked a question, and I can't really remember how he phrased it, but it was something like, "If they know Jesus, how are they homeless?" Wow! How would I explain? I tried to explain that the men had become homeless either by poor choices they had made somewhere along the way or by someone else's poor choices against them. Profoundly he said, "Oh yeah, like Joseph. He didn't do anything wrong, but his brothers were mean to him. He ended up in Egypt and experienced bad stuff but God meant it for good, right?" Yes! I said that I thought he was very smart and yes, God can speak to us in any way He chooses. His goal is to get our attention and He can do that if we are living in a comfortable house or living on the streets of Nashville.
I tried to assure him that no matter what, God loves those men and doesn't want them to be lost anymore. He wants them to make their home with Him.
Blessings,
Dori
