You With the Cardboard Sign

It was just another day.  Head spinning as I raced from stop to stop, errand list full of scribbles and notes in a handwriting only I could decipher.  My trunk overflowing with more groceries than my family of 5 could eat in a week. Sunglasses on, favorite song turned up on the radio. Life was good, not a care in the world.

And then I saw you.  

At first I averted my eyes, briefly entertaining the thought to pretend as though I hadn’t noticed.  But it was too late.  You had me.  I couldn’t look away as though a strange power had come over me accompanied by a sudden surge of emotions.  

I felt them all at once.

Concern, pity, curiosity, anger, love, opportunity, hope, heartache, confusion, selfishness, justification, guilt, compassion.  

The outside voices began to speak loudly into my thoughts waging war with my spirit…. "Don’t get involved.  Don’t help.  It’s not your problem.  You can’t control the outcome.  They probably deserve it.  Look away.  Don’t extend love."

I will myself to look past your cardboard sign and layers of weathered clothing, beyond your worn backpack of belongings that lay at your feet.

In that moment I see a human being.

I see a glimpse of a story uniquely yours.

I don’t see a problem,or jump to  judgement or criticism, declaring you less than.   I see a life, an actual person on a journey likely different from my own but none the less equally as worthy.  

My mind suddenly shifts into gear.  Coming alive, as though this is the way it were meant to be.  My hand reaches for my purse on impulse from my heart.  

And just as quickly as it began, it ends with the color change of red to green.  The moment has passed.  I move my foot off the break, hesitantly accelerating in the line of traffic that has formed.  My eyes continue to watch you as I pull past, a pit forming in my stomach.  I offer up a half -hearted prayer on your behalf as though it is some form of penance.  

Although I didn’t help you, you helped me. 

You, standing there holding your makeshift cardboard sign have given me a gift today.  You have reminded me how easily it is to sink into myself, my own life, my own family, my own blessings, my own concerns.   You have awakened me.  

Thank you for that.  

Isn’t it funny how a 30 second interaction can undo you?  This is my real life, last week actually, and it got me thinking.  I wear all sorts of shirts  (literally, they are hanging in my closet)  They proclaim things like:

“Make things Better”

"Love all Serve all”

“Just One”

“Live Generously” 

Do I make things better?  Do I truly love all and serve all?  Do I believe I can make a difference, I mean, really make a difference?  Am I a generous person to my core?  

What does my life reflect? 

It’s time I do a better job of living the messages I am wearing and declaring.  For now it’s a simple step- a plan in place.  An envelope in our car with money to spare just for the occasion.  Do with it what they like- that’s not what I feel convicted about, I  want to see and respond.  Obedience to that small gentle prompting of the Holy Spirit within me.  A genuine cry out to God on their behalf because it is one of His creations standing there.  

I am not alone in this.  Little eyes are watching from the backseat as teachable moments abound.  How would it help shape my children's spirit of compassion if they saw it in action in the midst of ordinary, everyday life?  

What if their default became generosity and prayer as a result of need?  

What if my default became such things?

And you, standing there with your sign, might it be enough to simply feel acknowledged?  

To simply feel love.