It is not good that the man should be alone

As you can see I’m not keeping this weekly. I worked Tuesday night four weeks in a row between Oct. and Nov. and I’ve simply not been disciplined to write down other nights I’ve been at Potters. The following is from Nov. 25th

I spoke tonight on suffering in response to a lady who I had spoken to months ago. She couldn’t see the point of prayer as she believed that God didn’t really care. In my introduction I spoke of our first meeting. I don’t always see this lady, but tonight she was front and centre. I didn’t know if I should talk about her when she was right there. I decided to anyway and it seemed she didn’t remember the situation. Near the end of the night I saw her rummaging around in her wheel chair. I decided to approach her. I told her that what I spoke about was as a result of our first conversation. She asked me what I meant and I recited our first meeting months earlier. I asked her if she heard anything I said, and if it made sense at all. At this she broke down crying. I couldn’t help myself but reach out to her and grab a hold of her hand.

She said that she was so alone. She grew up in an orphanage and had lost two children to the streets. She lifted her scarf to cover her face and the tears just began to pour. Her hands were rough. She said it was because of the time she spends out in the cold. In disgust she spit out, “There’s mice all over my apartment. They shit everywhere; on the counter, on my bed, in my pillow, in the pockets of this jacket. That’s why I spend all my time outside.” She said she just wanted it all to be done. She just wanted to die. Many times she repeated that she was so alone. I found it interesting that above the addiction, the poverty, hunger, and dilapidated shelter that it was the loneliness that she appeared to lament the most.

I said God does love her and that as long as she lives he has a purpose for her life. No, she would not believe that. I said his people have been called to love and care for those in need. She said that we don’t really love. We say we love but than we don’t do anything. This was a sore spot with me because sometimes I feel like I am of no practical service. I lend an ear, I pray some words (which are much more powerful than I tend to believe) and I give a bit of my time, but at the end of the day they go back to the street and I go home to my warm clean bed.

I know I can’t change anyone’s life. God does that and they have to accept that. I have to be careful not to be guilted into pity either. I just want to make sure that my love and faith have hands a feet and that I’m not saying no, when the Lord’s asking me to do something.