My Heart Grew Two Sizes Today
My heart.....broken for a community of people who have little to nothing. There is a very real homeless population in the United States and today I met them face to face.
It is with humility that I say this, because they are people just like me.
I am in good health most of the time. In November I was working one full-time job, two part-time jobs, shooting pictures and going to school full-time. My brain and my body put on the brakes. I have lupus and my body isn't fond of winter, or being overworked. Something had to go and it was the full-time job. Thinking I would be getting back to work in the beginning of January, I booked a few photo shoots for December and with confidence, felt I was going to be okay.
Things can change SO VERY FAST.
Shoots cancelled, snow days happened, and a series of events led me to financial devastation.
I've never been one of great financial means. I've always lived paycheck to paycheck. I don't own a home, I don't wear fancy clothes, I drive an old car and I use a flip phone.
Due to my physical and financial challenges, this morning I found myself at the mercy of an organization that provides emergency help.
Stop here, please, don't misinterpret this as a pity party. Yesterday I felt like throwing myself one, but this morning, my perspective is greatly altered. Because of my situation, I have a big story to share.
It was quiet when I first arrived. The receptionist and case worker were so polite, treating me with dignity. It was so much more than I expected. I felt like this was going to be okay.
Then they sent me next door to get a "food box."
When I walked into the building my eyes immediately filled with tears. I don't know that I have ever been so filled with that amount of love before. I found myself in a soup kitchen. The room was filled with people of every age. I watched little children and teenagers alike, take a tray of warm food to a table to sit down to what could very well be their only meal of the day. The elderly, the middle-aged, the divorced, the laid-off, the sick, the tired.
My heart doubled in size. I didn't feel sorry for myself. I felt sorrow for the people I was sitting with. I kept thinking "I should be helping!" I smiled. Visited. Cried. The gentleman next to me was cleanly shaven, reading the newspaper. He was wearing a Navy Veterans hat. I inquired if he was a veteran (in the event it wasn't his hat). He politely replied that yes, he was. He was in his 60's or 70's, fit as far as I could see. But this dignified, proud man, who had served his country well, was sitting next to me. I just couldn't believe we were in the same situation. Hard times. I felt honored to be in his presence.
There were others, too. Veterans from every service branch. They were visiting among themselves. You could see that some of these people had developed relationships with each other than can only come from shared circumstances.
The room had a distinctive smell. Like the smell when you go into a thrift store. It is the fragrance of need, of not having enough. I will never catch that scent in the same way ever again.
I have heard Christians say that the homeless and poor bring it upon themselves. I've heard conservatives say that the system is catering to illegals. Let me leave you with this one observation. Out of the 30 or 40 people I observed today, most of them were white. I chatted with ONE Mexican lady, and she spoke perfect English.
Bible thumping friends. Read this from Deuteronomy 15:7-9.
"7 “If there is among you a poor man of your brethren, within any of the gates in your land which the Lord your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart nor shut your hand from your poor brother, 8 but you shall open your hand wide to him and willingly lend him sufficient for his need, whatever he needs. 9 Beware lest there be a wicked thought in your heart."
It could happen to any of you. Its happening to me. And the compassion that it has stirred in my heart could only be a fraction of what the Creator feels for his created ones. It caused me to see real needs, and to reflect, remembering that "a person's a person, no matter how small." --Dr. Seuss, from Horton Hears a Who.
It is with humility that I say this, because they are people just like me.
I am in good health most of the time. In November I was working one full-time job, two part-time jobs, shooting pictures and going to school full-time. My brain and my body put on the brakes. I have lupus and my body isn't fond of winter, or being overworked. Something had to go and it was the full-time job. Thinking I would be getting back to work in the beginning of January, I booked a few photo shoots for December and with confidence, felt I was going to be okay.
Things can change SO VERY FAST.
Shoots cancelled, snow days happened, and a series of events led me to financial devastation.
I've never been one of great financial means. I've always lived paycheck to paycheck. I don't own a home, I don't wear fancy clothes, I drive an old car and I use a flip phone.
Due to my physical and financial challenges, this morning I found myself at the mercy of an organization that provides emergency help.
Stop here, please, don't misinterpret this as a pity party. Yesterday I felt like throwing myself one, but this morning, my perspective is greatly altered. Because of my situation, I have a big story to share.
It was quiet when I first arrived. The receptionist and case worker were so polite, treating me with dignity. It was so much more than I expected. I felt like this was going to be okay.
Then they sent me next door to get a "food box."
When I walked into the building my eyes immediately filled with tears. I don't know that I have ever been so filled with that amount of love before. I found myself in a soup kitchen. The room was filled with people of every age. I watched little children and teenagers alike, take a tray of warm food to a table to sit down to what could very well be their only meal of the day. The elderly, the middle-aged, the divorced, the laid-off, the sick, the tired.
My heart doubled in size. I didn't feel sorry for myself. I felt sorrow for the people I was sitting with. I kept thinking "I should be helping!" I smiled. Visited. Cried. The gentleman next to me was cleanly shaven, reading the newspaper. He was wearing a Navy Veterans hat. I inquired if he was a veteran (in the event it wasn't his hat). He politely replied that yes, he was. He was in his 60's or 70's, fit as far as I could see. But this dignified, proud man, who had served his country well, was sitting next to me. I just couldn't believe we were in the same situation. Hard times. I felt honored to be in his presence.
There were others, too. Veterans from every service branch. They were visiting among themselves. You could see that some of these people had developed relationships with each other than can only come from shared circumstances.
The room had a distinctive smell. Like the smell when you go into a thrift store. It is the fragrance of need, of not having enough. I will never catch that scent in the same way ever again.
I have heard Christians say that the homeless and poor bring it upon themselves. I've heard conservatives say that the system is catering to illegals. Let me leave you with this one observation. Out of the 30 or 40 people I observed today, most of them were white. I chatted with ONE Mexican lady, and she spoke perfect English.
Bible thumping friends. Read this from Deuteronomy 15:7-9.
"7 “If there is among you a poor man of your brethren, within any of the gates in your land which the Lord your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart nor shut your hand from your poor brother, 8 but you shall open your hand wide to him and willingly lend him sufficient for his need, whatever he needs. 9 Beware lest there be a wicked thought in your heart."
It could happen to any of you. Its happening to me. And the compassion that it has stirred in my heart could only be a fraction of what the Creator feels for his created ones. It caused me to see real needs, and to reflect, remembering that "a person's a person, no matter how small." --Dr. Seuss, from Horton Hears a Who.
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