I was chatting this week with a friend who lives on the streets of our city. He’s been sleeping rough for years now. As we chatted he told me how he had had very little sleep the night before. He had bedded down in his usual spot, a well lit alcove on a slightly quieter street in the city centre, when he noticed a young man walk up and down the street several times, seeming somewhat lost. He pulled his sleeping bag over himself, the alcohol I would be tempted to so quickly judge him for, numbing the pain, blocking the cold and dulling down the city’s noise enough to allow him to find sleep. He awoke a couple of hours later to find the young man sharing the alcove, perched on a plastic stool, clutching his bag, huddled over against the cold and moved by his plight, he pulled out his spare sleeping bag and offered him some solace against the night. The young man slept and my friend did not for his new companion was a snorer! This was the point of his story, the reason why he was a little more sleepy than normal. This was the part that wasn’t ok to him.

My heart didn’t know which way to go, my head spun in a million thoughts of how so much of this story is not ok. I’m still not sure I know how to respond but there are a couple of things that stand out to me. Firstly there is always hope, however small and seemingly insignificant, to be found in connection. This young man, in his isolation, knew that being close to another person, was safer than being alone. He knew that drawing close to a stranger was less scary than going solo. He may know more than me. How often I want to withdraw from community when life is hard. How quick I am to put up the walls, to hide my pain and frustration and fears and pull back from the relationships that could offer support. I suspect wealth and privilege create a self-sufficiency that is more destructive than we know.

From the outside it seems a somewhat humiliating act to sit down beside a sleeping stranger to simply not be alone but to me it screams of courage. Courage to admit I need connection, courage to admit I am not ok on my own. Courage I often lack as the word “fine” slips too easily from my lips when I am anything but. There is always hope in connection, we were made for community, we were made for the mutual exchange of courage when life is hard. True humility, the seeking out of others to help us, requires great courage but might just be the source of hope we need.

The other thing that struck me was the simplicity of my friend doing what he could. He could not solve this young man’s life problems – he, like me, cannot solve his own. He simply offered what he could. How often do I over think my way out of helping? I would have been worrying about the long term, the big picture, the back story and a whole lot else. He simply offered a shelter against the immediate cold and turned back to sleep.

There is so much in this world that is not ok. There are so many injustices that I haven’t a clue where to begin with but what if the thing we were called to was to simply respond to what is in front of us? What if I could train my eyes to really see the people I encounter every day? What if I could learn how to be fully present in the moment I’m in and pour out all that I have then and there, not holding back in case of future moments. Not holding back because what I can offer isn’t enough. Not holding back for fear of lacking myself. What if I could be like my friend and do what I can, where I am and trust that Jesus is big enough to do the rest? What’s really not ok is for me to do nothing!

Marathon Training Update
Runs this week – 1
Miles covered – 2.44
Average speed – 12.26 min/mi