Tag Archives: Faith

Eternity

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It’s something about the early morning that has always felt very sacred to me.

I don’t know if it’s the stillness or the anticipation of the dawn?

I know that the Father feels closer…more attentive. Or maybe I am more attentive?

This morning, I am preparing to attend a memorial service for Hallie Lynn Green.

Her physical life ended on this earth a little more than 4 days after her birth.

However, her legacy will live on.

It’s amazing to think that her life has affected so many people. People who don’t know Chris and Katie and will probably never meet them.

We will all be wearing green bracelets that have the verse from Jeremiah 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb I knewyou, before you were born I set you apart…” What a powerful verse!

When I read it, I think of the picture that Katie posted of Hallie’s hands while still in the womb. I love this picture. She is a masterpiece.

Throughout the last week, while reflecting on the happenings of this Christmas season and looking ahead to attending the memorial service celebrating this precious life, my mind continually went back to Katie.

Divinity by Sid Dickens

Katie made the ultimate sacrifice.

Katie made the decision, knowing that this pregnancy would bring with it a multitude of uncertainties, to carry Hallie for as long as God would hold her in the womb, with the expectation of having only a few moments with her, if any.

Katie is the one who faced strangers with a smile when they asked about her growing belly and told them of her little Christmas baby.

Katie honored God by trusting Him with the outcome of her obedience.

What incredible faith! She is such an inspiration to me and so many others.

So today, as we celebrate the life of this precious one, we also celebrate her mother, Katie, who has more strength, more faith, more trust and hope, than anyone I have ever known. And without whom, there would have been no Hallie.

Sid Dickens Eternity Memory Block

Please join me in praying that God will draw near to this family today and everyday, as they rejoice that Hallie has eternal security. She is now able to see and hear and her spiritual body is perfect.

Though this cannot lessen the pain of the physical separation, it allows them to look to the future with hope, confident that they will see their baby girl again in Heaven.

I woke up this morning with John 16:33 on my mind. Jesus was talking to His disciples when He said, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” 

Today, I bask in the light of the One who has defeated death and conquered the grave. To Him be the glory forever and ever.

The Day I met Hallie…

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(I began writing this on Tuesday evening (the 20th) only hours after meeting the newest edition to the little Green family. I have since struggled with whether or not to post it. It is an up close and personal look at my heart and that feels scary.
After several of my friends who don’t know Chris and Katie said that it would give them a better understanding of the whole situation, I decided to share it.)

Hallie Lynn Green entered the world via c-section on Monday, December 19th, weighing in at just under 5 lbs. and 18 inches long.

Those of us who know and love this family were unsure what to expect. Buckhead Church was on high alert all day as we waited for updates. The air was somber as there were so many uncertainties.

No one anticipated that Hallie would enter this world the way she did. She truly is a miracle. The only way I can tell you about the experience (through my own eyes), is by writing Hallie this letter.

Dear Precious One,

You are so strong. There were many expectations set for you and you have exceeded them all! You are so amazing!

I had the honor of meeting you today.
You are beautiful.
You are a fighter.
You are light in a dark world.

I, along with so many others have been praying for you since we first knew of your existence in your mother’s womb.

I spent many days praying for a miracle, that the doctors were wrong, that God would show off by defying all odds.

I prayed that you would be healthy and whole.
I pleaded with the Father for what I thought was the happy ending.

He had other plans.

You are a miracle, Darling. You are tangible evidence of a God we can’t see, but trust is there. You are the product of faith lived out.

As I looked at your perfectly round head that fit in the palm of my hand, I marveled at this tiny masterpiece that God had knit together. How silly of me to think that my plans were better than His! How utterly foolish to pray anything other than, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

His ways are not my ways, little one. I can say with great certainty that He knows the end of the story.

At times I want to turn the book to the last page so that I am not surprised by the ending, but that is not how the Master works. The story unfolds as it’s happening and He is never surprised.

Let me tell you a little bit about your mommy. She is one of the bravest women I have ever known. She has shown us all what unconditional love really means. From the beginning, her faith never wavered. She has been a testimony of faithfulness, trust, selflessness and grace.

She trusted the Father implicitly. As her belly grew and people would ask about gender and due date and all of the things they tend to ask a perfect stranger, your mom would smile and say, she’s a Christmas baby.

She has an immeasurable amount of strength and courage. It is evident, my darling, that you too have an immense amount of courage and strength. Thus giving you the nickname “Little Fighter.” That’s what we call you in our house. The boys came up with that name. I think it’s perfect.

I couldn’t get too far into this letter without telling you about your daddy too. He has been strong for you, your mom and your sisters. He has exuded confidence in the promise of God’s word. He has documented, through some amazing pictures, your development in your mother’s womb. He has prayed for you since your conception.

It is not without difficulty that your daddy has walked through this. Men, by nature, are fixers. He could not “fix” this. He could not ensure your safety, he could not plan further than the 24 hours in front of him. He could not protect your mommy’s heart from the uncertainties of the day.

So he did what he knew he could do. He provided a safe place when your mommy needed to cry. He offered stability in the midst of uncertainty. He trusted God with a child that he knew was His to begin with.

There have been many, many tears. These tears encompass the entire emotional spectrum. Disbelief, anger, sadness, acceptance, happiness, confusion, lack of understanding…the list goes on and on little one and it will continue to grow.

Here is what I know, at the end of the day, the Father’s hand has never left you.
As I sit here pouring out what has been so difficult to verbalize, I ask the Father for wisdom and discernment. I ask Him to guide me in the coming days as I selfishly wish for a “Hallie update” every 5 minutes. I ask that He help me when I don’t know what to say, not to say anything at all. There is often times understanding in silence.

You are a blessing, Precious One. A gift. A beautiful example of what God can do when we listen and accept His will for our lives. You’re mommy has taught me so much about what real faith looks like. For that, I am eternally grateful.

There are people on this earth, those who will never meet you or your family and yet they will be in heaven because of the impact that your life has already made.

As I close this letter, I am listening to the rain hit the leafless branches on the trees, as it pours from the sky. I believe that God acknowledges the heaviness of heart in different ways. I would like to think that today, He is showing me in a very tangible way, that He is acknowledging mine.

Love and Light,

A Not so Silent Night

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As I think about Christmas, the gifts, the fellowship, the stress….the birth of Christ, I am overwhelmed by the incredible truth that Jesus came as a human being, knowing that he would have to experience the pain of this world and one day take it all on himself so that we could live…

Being a mother of 3, I can’t help but think of Mary. I thought of her more last year than I ever have…until this year.

With a beautiful friend spending the next 24 hours (give or take a few) with her baby girl in her womb, knowing that once she is born, her life will be short, I am flooded with all kinds of emotions. Most I am unable to articulate.

My heart is heavy. Knowing from firsthand experience that a mother’s heart is never prepared to let her child go.

So my mind races with thoughts of what Monday will look like for Katie.

I think of her husband and her two daughters, how they will be affected, what they will be feeling. However, it isn’t the same. A mother spends more than 9 months feeling this little life move inside her womb. She talks to her, sings to her, names her (Hallie), pats her belly as if to say, “I’m here and I love you already”. There is nothing to prepare her to let her go…

Mary knows what it is like to lose a child.

The perspective of a mother watching her beautiful baby boy smile and coo knowing in her heart that one day she would also watch him die. I can’t fathom it.

I think of her, watching her precious little one (the Savior of the world) run around outside, playing and laughing, the sun reflecting off of his hair as she thinks, “When Lord? When will it be? How much time do I have?”

Over the weekend, Chris and I took our boys and a friend’s daughter (who we love to pieces) to the Nature Center. They love it there. I had to be all but dragged as Friday is my pajama pants day. I threatened Christopher with wearing pj pants in public, but he didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

Once we got there and realized that we pretty much had the whole place to ourselves, I was able to exhale.

The beautiful flowers and plants that we had seen blooming only weeks ago were now brown and leaves covered the ground. The signs of fall were all but gone and winter was announcing its arrival.

It’s amazing how different the exact same tree looked, stretching to the sky with its now naked branches.

It was an overcast day, but the sky still looked amazing and the breeze was just enough. It was as if God was acknowledging sadness.


I loved hearing the kiddos squeal with delight as they ran through the crunchy leaves, stopping only to climb on a rock or pick up a stick to throw into the river.

I watched them look in amazement at all the different creatures along our path. The dirt was even fascinating to their young minds. Their imaginations were taking them to far off places with invisible swords and maidens in distress. Where the good guy always wins and rides off with the girl.

As I watched their interactions…their complete lack of concern for time…the looks on their faces as they ran around corners, stopping at each clearing to see if there were fish surfacing the water…my mind went back to Mary.


Did she watch Jesus play this way? Laughing and jumping? Throwing rocks and sticks into the water as he called to his siblings?

Did he know from the beginning the enormity of his glory? Or was he able to maintain that child like wonder? His father is God after all! The Creator of the Universe.

When looking at my own sons, it’s rather difficult to take in.

Did Jesus scrape his knees and have common childhood illness’? Did he run to his mother for comfort?

What if he had come as he deserved? There would have been no Bethlehem. There would have been no animals or Shepherds at his birth. There would have been no Mary.

But he didn’t come as he deserved. He came as a helpless infant.

I’m guessing that Mary experienced the pain that childbirth brings that is like no other pain in the world. And that when Jesus was born, it was not a silent night. I’m guessing that she screamed out under the labor of giving birth and that Jesus cried, as every healthy baby does, after being delivered.

I would also guess that his father, Joseph, was the doctor and the nurse. There probably weren’t many midwives on the streets of Bethlehem that night.

So why? Why did he enter the world this way? Or at all for that matter? You have to admit, it’s a strange way to save the world.

I think he did it so that when I look at my son, I realize what an incredible sacrifice was made. I can relate to the pain of giving birth. I can relate to watching my babies grow and thanking God for the time with them and the incredible gift that they are.

There really wasn’t any other way.

There are many, many things that I do not and will not understand in this life.
That’s okay. I’m not called to understand, I’m called to believe.

So in the case of sweet Katie and baby Hallie, I have to believe what a friend said in prayer the other day… that little Hallie’s life has already had more of an impact than many of us will make in a lifetime. Another said that the only reality she will ever know is Heaven. (Now that is a beautiful visual)

The difficult part is not for those who go meet the Savior. It is for those of us who are left behind with the unanswered questions and a sadness that aches as if it will never heal.

How do those without God do it?! How does one who does not believe in a Savior (other than themselves) survive pain that is so unjustifiable? I cannot wrap my mind around it.

In the Father I have a promise of something more than this world. That is what keeps me hanging on during the rough moments.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

In this world there will be sorrow. For those of us who know that this world is not our home, we cling to the truth, that a man, Jesus, came as a baby in a wooden manager filled with hay and then died on a cross made from a tree (one that his father had created), taking all of our guilt, shame and defects, upon himself so that we may not perish, but have everlasting life.

I look forward to meeting Mary and talking with her as one mom to another.

He forgives me…He forgives me not…He forgives me…

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“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” Romans 8:1

Do you believe that scripture? Do you care? Do you even think about sin? Do you justify and rationalize behavior that you know separates you from the One who knows you better than anyone else?

I do.

Do you ever play this game with your sin? “God, I know you forgive me for that one, but maybe not this one? I mean, how could you? This one is hideous. I cringe whenever it comes to mind.”

I do. More than I like to admit.

So I continue to ask forgiveness over and over and over again…for something God doesn’t even remember after the first repentance. 

There are verses scattered throughout God’s word about forgiveness. How the Father remembers our sin no more after we come to Him. So why can’t we “remember no more.” ?

I think I know the answer. At least for why I won’t let myself forget.

I think that I deserve punishment. I should suffer for the things I have done whether 5 minutes or 5 years ago.

I call it my pity prison and though not my intention, it deems me absolutely useless to the work of the Father.

That’s not how God works. Nor is it what He wants for my life. Not because I am destined to be a programmed robot who spits out bible verses every time I’m in a situation that calls for a response. But because He wants me to live life and live it more abundantly.

He tells me right there in John 10:10 “A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy (that thief is my shame). I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.”

Do I really believe this?

Do I truly believe, with all of the terrible things happening around me that He wants what’s best? That He wants to exceed all expectations? That His plan is without flaw, unlike my intentions?

“Because of the sacrifice of the Messiah, his blood poured out on the altar of the Cross, we’re a free people—free of penalties and punishments chalked up by all our misdeeds. And not just barely free, either. Abundantly free! He thought of everything, provided for everything we could possibly need, letting us in on the plans he took such delight in making. He set it all out before us in Christ, a long-range plan in which everything would be brought together and summed up in him, everything in deepest heaven, everything on planet earth.” Ephesians 1:7-10 (MSG)

So, in other words, when my being a repeat offender leads to becoming a repeat confessor, I am saying that the cross is not enough. That the blood of my Savior, poured out for me, is not enough. That the hours of pain so intense I cannot even wrap my mind around it, was not enough. That the nail scarred hands where He was pierced, was not enough.

That even though He would have endured Calvary for my life alone, I need a little more proof that not only the little thing was forgiven, but the really big thing that I have been carrying around for years.

No matter the size of the sin, that is what held Him there.

“God rescued us from dead-end alleys and dark dungeons. He’s set us up in the kingdom of the Son he loves so much, the Son who got us out of the pit we were in, got rid of the sins we were doomed to keep repeating.” Colossians 1:13-14

I love the word rescued. Say it out loud… Rescued. Just the sound of it stirs feelings of hope.

Many times I have found that the hardest person to forgive is myself. My mind sits on repeat and torments me with feelings of guilt and shame. These are the times when I ask the Father to lead me to the cross.

If there is one thing I am sure of my friend, it’s that the cross… is… more than enough.

When Cancer is no longer a Stranger

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I tried to think of a great title for this and well, that is the one I came up with. All of the others had profanity. I am mad as hell right now, as I write this. I figured when I calmed down a little I would regret saying the f word in a blog title or post for that matter. So, that’s that.

I want to share a story with you. It’s a story about the difference between what I think is fair and what I have to believe (through faith only, not logic or feelings or emotion or justice) to be God’s plan.

It’s a story about how sometimes, in the midst of it all, I am too sad to cry, too angry to scream, too numb to pray and too lackadaisical to ask God for any input.

There is this girl. Her name is Elliot. She is beautiful and smart, kind and generous. Her entire life has been based on faith, the love of Christ and her family. She is married to the love of her life and with him, she has, two beautiful young children.

Elliot is a loyal friend. She is a follower of Christ…a daughter…a sister…a wife…a mother.

Then there is me. It is I who have spent the majority of my life living for myself. I ran from God and thought I could hide, but He always found me. Though it would be years of heartache and wreckage before I finally surrendered, God had a plan and still does. I emerged from my prodigal journey with many scars, but overall rather unscathed. I am married to the love of my life and with him, I have, two beautiful young children.

I am doing my best to make up for time that was frivolously spent. I am a follower of Christ…a daughter…a sister…a wife…a mother.

Elliot has a deadly form of cancer.

It is showing itself to be relentless in it’s attempts to ravage her body.

As of today it has spread to her lungs and liver.

Three weeks ago, her scans were clear.

She needs a miracle…

Elliot and I have been friends for more than two decades.
We went to school together, grew up in church together, played tennis together, had slumber parties, talked about boys and God and our parents together. She still talked to me when others wouldn’t because they did not agree with the way I was behaving. And though I’m certain she didn’t agree, she didn’t shun me.

I cannot help but ask, “WHY HER?!”

She’s done it right. She was a good girl who lived right. Why her?!

Lord, what are you up to??? It is through clenched teeth that I say, “I know God has a plan… He is still in control… He loves us more than any human ever could… In all situations give thanks… He uses everything for His good… His will, not mine…” and on and on my mind races through all of the scripture, quotes, biblical truths, that I have been hearing my whole life.

I don’t feel better.

This isn’t about me!

As I read Elliot’s latest update on her Caring Bridge site I began to feel sick to my stomach. I didn’t know whether to scream, cry, pound the steering wheel (I was parked) or tell God how angry I was? So I did all of the above.

For those of you who just gasped at the thought of me actually telling God how angry I am, you are not familiar with the same God whom I, fall on my face before pleading for a different answer than the one He seems to be speaking, or at times clinch my teeth in defiance while reciting His word, yet truth does not (at times) ease the pain of reality. Other times I lift my face and hands to the sky in reverence and utter disbelief that a God like this could love a wretch like me.

Whether I am praising, weeping, laughing, quoting, sharing with the God of my understanding, He remains my only constant.

Here is an excerpt from Elliot’s journal entry titled “God is still in control”

“…Obviously this is not what any of us had in mind. But God is still in control. We are not supposed to have a spirit of fear, but truthfully, the speed at which this is moving terrifies me. I had a clear scan 3 weeks ago. My hope is still in the Lord, my healer. I am begging each of you to pound the throne of heaven and ask for a miracle. 

When I was first diagnosed, one of my dear friends told me to claim Psalm 91.  So I did. Last night as I lay in the hospital getting an EKG, I struck up a conversation with the nurse. I don’t remember exactly how we even started talking, but our conversation quickly centered around God.  I looked at her with tears in my eyes and asked Where is God? She said, oh baby, He’s here. He will never leave you. And don’t you ever give up on him. Ever.”

I wish I could say that were I lying in a hospital bed, as she was, that I would soon after write a post title that resembled anything close to “God is still in control”. Maybe I would? Or maybe not?

So what do we do when God doesn’t answer our prayer? Or when He doesn’t give us the answer we want? What do we do when there is more than one path and we are not certain which one to take?

The Senior Pastor at our church just finished teaching a series called “When God?” The timing could not have been more perfect. I would encourage you, if you have ever experienced God in any way other than you think He is “supposed” to be (your very own genie in a bottle, who only comes out when summoned), to listen to Andy’s message. It can change your life… if you let it.

He talked about when we feel like God is one of these three things and what to do about it;

  1. Inattentive
  2. Uncooperative
  3. Late

Here is the take away from each message.

Moving Forward

When God is…

INATTENTIVE
Your personal circumstances do not necessarily coincide with God’s feelings about you. God’s apparent inactivity in your life is not a reflection of his activity in the world. If it currently feels like God is inattentive, look back at what he has done for you and out at his activity in the world around you.

UNCOOPERATIVE
While we have permission to ask God to remove our thorns, God has the right to say no to our requests. What do you do when God chooses to showcase his power on the stage of your weakness? Take no for an answer. When you do, God gives you something in return—sustaining grace. 2 Corinthians 12:9

LATE
When God is late in addressing your problems or answering your prayers, it can be difficult to know how to continue on in faith. But the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead offers a picture of hope in the midst of a hopeless situation. If you continue to trust God through your pain, he will eventually show you his glory.

My heart is heavy… my eyes are red and stinging from hours of tears…my head is pounding and yet my mind is numb.

I am not the one with cancer.

Feelings change with circumstances. 

God does not change.

He is consistent, faithful, trustworthy, loving, gracious, all knowing and most importantly, never caught by surprise.

Now, in this moment, is when faith is tested.
    
It is when I must ask myself, “Do I believe God as well as believe in God?” Or does my belief only go as far as the expectation for a happily ever after?

*** If you would like to follow Elliot’s journey, please visit her Caring Bridge site to keep up with the latest information. In the meantime, we covet your prayers.

Wrestling demons…

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Ever have one of those dreams that wakes you from sleep with a racing heart and rapid breathing, grasping in the darkness as if you are fighting something that isn’t there?

That is how I woke up this morning. Shaken.

Maybe that’s one of the consequences of having a past where darkness was prevalent?
OR
Maybe it’s one of the blessings?

I haven’t had one of these dreams in a long time, but when I do, a couple of things happen.

  • I am taken back to a time where I felt utterly lost and fear was my guide.
  • I reach for Chris and confirm what is real in this moment.
  • I pray.

There was a time when these sort of dreams were very disturbing to me. In attempts to gain a new perspective, I asked someone who I respect a great deal, what I should do with this feeling that tends to shadow me throughout the day?

This was her response, (as my mind remembers it anyway),

“Where it can be scary to wrestle with demons, especially those from the past, it is a good thing. It reminds us of where we have been, how far we have come and what God has done for us that we could not do for ourselves. Do not look at these dreams as a negative thing. Ask God what He wants you to do with it. Thank Him for life as you know it, today, in this moment. Thank Him for your present reality. And then live. We cannot allow fear to paralyze us when the Creator Himself has called us to life.”

I believe that.

I also believe that we are fighting against something far greater than our memory of a troubling event.

We are fighting the master of darkness.

Okay, I know, it sounds dramatic and a little hokey if you aren’t a big fan of the bible and what has been sprinkled throughout about powers unseen…good and bad.

And maybe I’m still half asleep, but I cannot help but look to God’s word in times like these and the passage that consistently comes to mind is this one; 

“And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels. Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own.” Ephesians 6:12 (The Message)

For those of us who grew up in church it read something like this; 

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” (New International Version)

I don’t remember ever hearing this passage from a church pew.

Maybe it’s because I wasn’t always paying attention or it could because IT FREAKS PEOPLE OUT!
There are few pastors who are willing to talk about the hard things and not just focus in on the wonderful, uplifting parts of the bible or the verses that talk about giving them more money.

This is one of the many reasons why I love my church.
I could walk in today, recall that which I have said here to any one of those who I consider leaders within the church and instead of looking at me like I have 3 heads, they would guide me through it in a way that I could understand, not downplaying the reality of this spiritual realm that most of us walk around completely oblivious to.

I don’t enjoy those nights when I fall asleep and wrestle the darkness.
I am however encouraged, as it reminds me that I must exercise my spiritual muscles.
Though the battle is already won, the fight is not yet over.

Are all of God’s Children Created Equal?

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“There is only one God and He is God to all; therefore it is important that everyone is seen as equal before God. ~Mother Teresa

“…red, brown, yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight…”

Or are they?

Do you believe that we all start out with the same deck of cards (so to speak)?
The same possibilities…chances…hopes…dreams? We have the same beginning but with vastly different endings?

OR, do you believe that before we are ever conceived, our fate has been decided?

Would God really assign one child to a crack addicted girl while giving another to someone who has dreamed of being a mother for years?

Or what about an alcoholic woman, who, every time she goes to the bathroom prays (to whoever is there) that she will see blood in the toilet as a prerequisite for a miscarriage, mainly because she doesn’t know who the father is. And let’s be honest…she isn’t giving up the booze.

I have heard the following phrases and those similar (as I’m sure you have too),
“Well, we work with the cards we are dealt”
“But for the grace of God go I”
“Worthless drunk. Why can’t he/she just pull it together. It’s lack of discipline I tell you!”
“How could anyone just give up their baby?! Wow, are they going to be sorry later!”
“They obviously chose the short straw.”
Maybe I have used a few of these phrases. YIKES. The thought of it coming out of my mouth makes me cringe.

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a difficult battle.” ~Plato

My man and I were in a certain part of the city today.
It was fairly early for a Saturday.
As we sat outside enjoying the beautiful weather, one homeless person after another came into the  park across from where we were.

I watched them with their packs of belongings, their dogs on the end of a thick string and their feet black from walking either barefoot or with worn sandals.

There is a couple that stood out to me. I watched them for a while.
He looked to be comforting her over something.
I watch him approach a passerby. I figured he was asking him for money. To my surprise, he had asked for his to go box that was in his left hand.
The man gave it to him and quickly walked away.

He then took it over to the woman that he was seemingly consoling and gave it to her. She opened the styrofoam container and ate the left over contents from the strangers meal.

Photo by EyeTunes (CC)

“Make us worthy, Lord, to serve those people throughout the world who live and die in poverty and hunger. Give them through our hands, this day, their daily bread, and by our understanding love, give them peace and joy.” ~Mother Teresa

I see the same man walking up Peachtree on my way to work everyday.
And on my way home he is walking in the opposite direction.

I always notice his mannerisms…the way that he hangs his head when a suit walks by or when a woman crosses to the other side of the street to avoid his stink and stare…
The fact that he is always scratching his thickly bearded face.

All the while, conversing in my head, “He probably has head lice and there is no telling what’s living in that beard? I wonder how long it’s been since he’s had a shower? Where does he use the bathroom? I wonder if he even wants help? I can only imagine how bad his body odor is…Why doesn’t he go to a shelter? He probably has to eat out of dumpsters. I wonder if I could ever do that?! People seem to look right through him as if he is not even there. Is that hurtful to him, or has he grown accustomed to it? I wonder how long he’s been on the street?”

I see him walking as if his left leg is shorter than his right. His skin has leathered from the elements and his hair is almost white with spots of grey.

I wonder who he was? I wonder how he became what he is? I wonder if he had a family and a life? A house with a two car garage and a front lawn that he had to mow once a week.

I wonder if he has children somewhere who no longer speak to him?

I wonder if he prays?

I wonder if he feels inadequate and beaten down? I mean, how could he not?

The first day I remember seeing him, I was driving down Peachtree and came to the stoplight, there he was, walking down the sidewalk. “Oh Lord, please don’t let him ask me for money! Please. You know I will give it to him and it is probably to support whatever habit he has.” I avoided eye contact. You know the kind, when someone in utter desperation looks at you and if you are looking at them, you are now involved somehow.

“Don’t look. Just look straight ahead. Good Lord! Is this the longest stoplight in Georgia?!”

I couldn’t help it, I had to look back over to my right where he was walking.

My eyes met his. They were the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, with lines as deep as valleys encasing them.

He didn’t smile…he did not approach my car and ask for money…he just kept walking.
“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” ~Mother Teresa

Just then I heard the car horn behind me…the light was green.

As I drove on, all I could hear in my head was a quote from Mother Teresa saying, “They are all Jesus in disguise”.

I was shaken. I was…changed.

I began looking for this man every morning and afternoon on my commute.
What is his name? Does he go to a shelter? Does he reside under a bridge? Is he mentally stable?

“Lord, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO WITH THIS?! Why is this person in my path everyday? More than once? I do not know what I am supposed to do with this?! But I know I can’t simply do nothing. I can no longer turn my head and look the other way.”

Besides, that could be me…

“Nah, banish that thought! Put it out of your mind!”

No really, I wasn’t too far from where he is and I certainly deserved to be eating from dumpsters without a bed to sleep in or a roof over my head.

If I say, “Thankfully God was looking out for me!!” Does that mean that He is not looking out for this man?

I’m guessing that when he was little he didn’t dream of one day living on the street. Calling a bridge under I-85 “home sweet home”. I seriously doubt that he saw himself walking around the polluted city streets for hours a day in a sweat stained wife beater and hole filled jeans, while carrying everything he owned in a pink backpack.

I think he dreamed of being something more.

So what happened?

I don’t know? Maybe it was the cards he was dealt? Maybe he’s unlucky? Maybe his destiny was always to be that of a homeless wanderer?

OR…

Maybe not! Maybe someone just like me, at another place and time, before things got so bad, passed him by…looked the other way…figured someone else would help him?

“You and I, we are the Church, no? We have to share with our people. Suffering today is because people are hoarding, not giving, not sharing. Jesus made it very clear. Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you do it to me. Give a glass of water, you give it to me. Receive a little child, you receive me.” ~Mother Teresa

Do you know what I love and adore about Buckhead Church, my church (with no steeple)? I LOVE that I am constantly challenged to BE THE CHURCH. I am encouraged to BE BOLD. I don’t wait for God to meet me in a building on Sunday, I seek and walk with Him daily. Do you know how powerful that is?! That is a truth that I did not accept until I was 3 decades into my life.

I know that it’s easier not to look or listen or…notice, but I beg you…please…open your eyes.
Or better yet, ask for a new set of eyes. My prayer is, God, Give Me Your Eyes and then help me do something with what I have seen and not worry about what other people think of me.

“If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; 
be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and true enemies; 
succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; 
be honest and frank anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; 
be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; 
do good anyway…
You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God; 
it was never between you and them anyway.”  
~Mother Teresa