I passed one of those people yesterday. You know. Well, if you live in a big city you probably know. Those people. The first clue is they are pushing a grocery cart filled with things that probably go in a suitcase or moving van if it were me. And they are not in a grocery store parking lot.
She pushed the cart past me as I exited the building. She was pleasant and talking. Naturally, I listened to see if she was greeting me in order to look her in the eyes and be nice in response, as my mother taught me to do. It takes a split second to conclude I am not a part of the conversation though no one else is nearby. She was messy and the hair had that look to it. I just kept walking on out of the building and out of her life.
As I passed her, I heard her say, "I gotta call my mom." She wasn't coherent, but that phrase grabbed my heart. The reality hit me between the eyes. This is someone's daughter. A person of value, if not to herself or her family -- to God. I then saw her differently. Not with my eyes, but with my heart. A humility settled over me and an openess to care about her. Even if just for a moment in prayer. I am just as feeble at figuring out life at times, but the Lord loves me and cares for me. Sounds like a children's Bible song. But the truth can be profound at moments of clarity when I pause to notice the moment.
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