There is an elderly woman who walks the streets of Hagatña—homeless. She stands outside of McDonald’s or Winchell’s, Payless or Yogurtland. Pacing. Sometimes she’s quiet. Sometimes she’s yelling frightful profanities at an invisible person or at the world in general.
You know her. Many of you have stopped and given her a dollar or two. Some of you have given her food. As you hand over something that you hope will satiate her for a while, a sandwich, a bottle of water, some money—she spats out anger. “Is that it?” she demands (and I’m putting it mildly). I’m not being judgmental of her. She may have some psychological issues that have led her to the streets in the first place. I don’t know.
But as I watched her cross a busy street this morning, carrying what is likely, all of her worldly possessions in a bag slung across her shoulder, I looked at her face. She is filled with bitterness, hopelessness, anger—and realized something. The old homeless lady is us! God faithfully gives us what we need—sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but always enough. Yet we spat upon his hand and say “Is that it?” or we look him in the face and say “I don’t need you”. We are often the bitter-faced homeless person grasping at more with perpetual dissatisfaction.
A person who has been rebuked for “only” handing over two dollars instead of five will likely walk back to his car saying, “Fine! Never again!” I know that’s how I felt. But our Lord doesn’t give up so easily. He patiently waits, likely saddened, but always forgiving when we say, “Please forgive me”.
Please pray for the woman on the street and all those who do not know Him.