Population: Me

I took the exit off of I-70 onto 23^rd street yesterday. I was heading back to work from the halfway house. They require payment to be made immediately after receiving our check which means I have to leave in the middle of work and run downtown, cash my check, and then run a money order over to the drop box. This all makes for a hassle. Thankfully I have a sympathetic boss who overlooks this; others aren’t so fortunate.

So I take this exit. It’s familiar off to the west because there is Prospect Ave. a couple of blocks away. Then there is the place where Beki is going to do her counseling, Beneld. I came to the stop sign to head back East and noticed a person – another person – sitting on the curb holding a cardboard sign. She was wrapped in a large coat and had a stocking cap on. Yesterday’s temp was in the upper 70’s so now, come to think of it, she probably had poor circulation and needed to stay warm. I could tell that she had no teeth because her chin pointed upwards as her lips curled in.

“Another homeless beggar,” I said to myself. (I write this to my shame) “Pfffff,” I let out a flat tire noise and drove on through, ignoring the sign and what it said. Besides, I had just dropped off half of my paycheck to a halfway house that I don’t live at, I am driving a beat up truck that sucks gas, I’m working a job that pays crap wages, I’m….

Get the trend? It was easy for me to ignore the plight of another person thinking about the misery of my own. With each grumbling thought I was able to push this woman farther away and with each bad thing I could think of that was going on in my life I began to see this woman as a con artist, a fake, a lazy beggar. I don't have to give anything if she is who I've made her out to be.

Proverbs 21:13 reads, “If a man shuts his ears to the cry of the poor, he too will cry out and not be answered.” I came across this just this morning in my daily readings. Oh how convicted is my heart! Here I thought I was doing so much of late, working so hard to build a relationship with God – and then the Holy Spirit reaches out and slaps a dose of conviction on me.

I could have done something – anything. That’s what I wrote in my Bible right beside the verse. I had an almost full bag of Cheese-It’s I could have handed her. I had a Bible track. I had loose change (although I am a big proponent of not giving anyone on the street money). I had my chicken noodle lunch I knew I didn’t have time to eat. I had…my time. I had 2 minutes to stop, pray with her, tell her God loves her and that this life is not it.

But I didn’t. My problems were too much. My situation was too difficult. My time was too precious – to me. My life was equally – if not more – miserable.

Its times like these I’m thankful for the Holy Spirit. It would be nice to have Jesus walking around healing people and proving His deity to us but that isn’t the plan. The plan was to send us the Spirit to guide us, lead us, and remind us that the world, like Matthew West sings, isn’t populated with just me.