If you are a skimmer, what ever you do — DO NOT SKIP THE LETTERS IN RED.
God’s beginning to cut me and mutinize my complacent heart. I can feel it and I’m wondering what this moulding process will entail. The cutting away process is never fun!
Adjusting to my 7 foods is definitely helping to adjust my heart. I see waste and greed everywhere. It protrudes out of my own refrigerator, pantry, and fruit bowl.
I have so stinkin’ much food! So much I look right past a refrigerator full and openly declare “there’s nothing to eat in this house!”
My own waste is nauseating me. It’s just too much that I let veggies grow hair and turn to liquid in the refrigerator! Why?
My heart wandered to my friends out on the streets and I found myself wondering how they even know where their next meal is coming from. While my emotions were stirring, I knew I needed to know more.
I sent an email over to a brother who was homeless for three years asking,
what was it like on the streets? what did you eat? were others kind in providing? how did you learn where you could get food?
About three years ago I became homeless. Doesn’t matter why I became homeless, because homeless people are branded with society’s perception. On the streets it’s all about survival and of course one of the top prorities is food. The only way I know to get across what this entails is to give you a day in the life of a homeless person in downtown Houston.
I wake up at 6:00 am and promtly get up and put my bedding up. Then I walk clear across downtown Houston to get food every morning except Sundays. Seems like folks figure the homeless don’t get hungry on Sundays because you hardly see anyone show up to feed. This particular ministry brings hot coffee and pastries very good on a cold morning with an empty stomache. Be careful though, the pastries are donated and mold is common.
There were options in Houston. For lunch you could either go to a place called Loaves and Fishes (I think every city has one of those) or 4 days a week go to the Beacon. You won’t be lonely because 700 other people go so you usally wait for at least 2 hours if your not first in line, that’s tough to do though because folks start lining up abpout 2:00 am. There is never any telling what will be served at Loaves and Fishes. It is ususally something with a lot of pasta and juice and very little meat. During the summer months, which is about 6 months out of the year in Houston, it is so hot that I very rarely had an appetite for lunch. For dinner it was a little tougher. There were a couple of folks that would come out but it was very limited and once again you’d have a hour to hour and a half wait for a bowl of spaghetti or soup. There are places that hand out sanwiches and snacks, things of that sort so really if you go hungry it’s your own fault or you just don’t know where to go yet.
It broke my heart to see people go hungry. So when I was making the rounds each day, I would stock up and fill my back pack up with as much as I could carry. Then when I ran across a “new face” or somebody just getting out of jail or anyone that hadn’t got anything to eat that day I had stuff for them. I never went to sleep with much in my pack. There was always somebody that needed food.
I have since moved to Corpus Christi, Tx and the situation is much worse here. They only have one place that feeds regularly and it just shut it’s doors on the week-ends. There is not near the folks coming out and feeding like in Houston. When they do they come out once a week or once a month. Sad very sad that a nation that throws away so much can’t even feed thier homeless. And you wonder why that guy is digging in the dumpster.
My heart is still heavy with my friends truthful words. His words resonate through my soul, while I ponder the fact that I show up once or twice a month and think “I’ve done my part.” What the sam-hill is “my part?” (hear me tearfully screaming)
I need you to tell me what “my part” “your part” “anybody’s part” looks like. Reader, I need your helpful hints, thoughts, and direction! How can we make a difference?
I didn’t say, how can our church make a difference. I’m not asking for 501c3 help. I’m saying, how can you and I (you know the ones sitting all fat and happy with scads of food within an arms reach) make a difference?
While I ponder my Spirit is softly reminded of this scripture from the Lord in Isaiah 58:
‘We have fasted before you!’ they say.
‘Why aren’t you impressed?
We have been very hard on ourselves,
and you don’t even notice it!’
“I will tell you why!” he responds.
“It’s because you are fasting to please yourselves.
Even while you fast,
you keep oppressing your workers.
What good is fasting
when you keep on fighting and quarreling?
This kind of fasting
will never get you anywhere with me.
You humble yourselves
by going through the motions of penance,
bowing your heads
like reeds bending in the wind.
You dress in burlap
and cover yourselves with ashes.
Is this what you call fasting?
Do you really think this will please the Lord?
“No, this is the kind of fasting I want:
Free those who are wrongly imprisoned;
lighten the burden of those who work for you.
Let the oppressed go free,
and remove the chains that bind people.
Share your food with the hungry,
and give shelter to the homeless.
Give clothes to those who need them,
and do not hide from relatives who need your help.
Shaking my fists at Summer of 7 “you are totally messin’ me up!”