Last Friday night, Sheldon and I went for a walk in downtown Portland, Oregon. We had earlier gone to a Worship and Intercession meeting, but after being there a short time we decided to leave. It wasn't where God wanted us to be.
We had both been feeling down—grief and sorrow mainly. Circumstances in our lives had been challenging to say the least, but this past week, they had been especially hard on Sheldon David, who is a very sensitive person. The main reasons for both of our grief dealt with deception in the church and the actions of certain individuals we both knew. One person chose to change direction in ministry and separate from us, another had just sent an email to justify his former homosexual lifestyle, after knowing Jesus Christ for over 15 years. (This friend had recently found a church, where cheap grace was taught. It is very sad to see people seduced by some of the theology that is being preached in some churches today.)
We had both been feeling down—grief and sorrow mainly. Circumstances in our lives had been challenging to say the least, but this past week, they had been especially hard on Sheldon David, who is a very sensitive person. The main reasons for both of our grief dealt with deception in the church and the actions of certain individuals we both knew. One person chose to change direction in ministry and separate from us, another had just sent an email to justify his former homosexual lifestyle, after knowing Jesus Christ for over 15 years. (This friend had recently found a church, where cheap grace was taught. It is very sad to see people seduced by some of the theology that is being preached in some churches today.)
So to get out of the "down" mood, the Lord suggested to Sheldon to go downtown Portland and "walk it off." When we got there, we both anointed our shoes with oil, prayed and walked the streets in the heart of the city. It was a mild Friday night and the streets were alive with activity. The smell of food, alcohol and cigarettes lingered in the air along with the traffic noise.
Many people and families were gathering in the numerous restaurants, bars and taverns that lined the streets; you could hear them laughing and talking. Others were just standing or sitting in groups alongside the sidewalks, talking and drinking. Some were alone with their "friend," the bottle, wrapped in a brown paper bag. And then there were the occasional homeless panhandlers both hoping for and asking for donations before looking for a place to sleep. Most people we walked by were totally oblivious to the awesome God who loved them, and equally oblivious of the two men who walked the streets interceding on their behalf. Seeing so many lost and hurting souls helped take both of our minds off our problems.
Many people and families were gathering in the numerous restaurants, bars and taverns that lined the streets; you could hear them laughing and talking. Others were just standing or sitting in groups alongside the sidewalks, talking and drinking. Some were alone with their "friend," the bottle, wrapped in a brown paper bag. And then there were the occasional homeless panhandlers both hoping for and asking for donations before looking for a place to sleep. Most people we walked by were totally oblivious to the awesome God who loved them, and equally oblivious of the two men who walked the streets interceding on their behalf. Seeing so many lost and hurting souls helped take both of our minds off our problems.
After walking for about ninety minutes, we were almost back to the car when we walked past another panhandler. This one was a young teenage girl sitting up against a post, next to the curb. Before we saw her, I had been thinking about what I had heard someone say to the previous panhandler, "Sorry, I have nothing to give." I understood the meaning of those words, but they still grieved my heart as I pondered them. I prayed in my heart, "Only you can change that, Father." I thought how unfortunate it would have been if Apostle Peter had said those same words to the lame man who was begging at the temple gate. (Acts 3:1-10). So as we passed the young girl, I also wondered to myself if her parents knew where she was or even cared?
I had to go back. I had to do more or at least say something.
I remembered how my wife and I felt when our daughter had run away from home at 16 years of age, (she was gone for almost a year), and the concerns that had filled our minds not knowing where she was or who she was with. So I asked Sheldon to wait a moment, and I went back to the young girl on the street. I didn't have much money, but I bent over and handed her some bills that I did have. She looked at me and took the money but didn't say a word; neither did I.( I was speechless.) The look on her face said it all. There was a slight smile that tried to cover up the guilt and shame she felt, and her eyes spoke of much pain. I smiled, then turned and walked away. I felt frustrated for not saying anything. I told God, "I wanted to do more." Then He reminded me that when you give a cup of water to the least of these, you have done it unto me.
I had to go back. I had to do more or at least say something.
I remembered how my wife and I felt when our daughter had run away from home at 16 years of age, (she was gone for almost a year), and the concerns that had filled our minds not knowing where she was or who she was with. So I asked Sheldon to wait a moment, and I went back to the young girl on the street. I didn't have much money, but I bent over and handed her some bills that I did have. She looked at me and took the money but didn't say a word; neither did I.( I was speechless.) The look on her face said it all. There was a slight smile that tried to cover up the guilt and shame she felt, and her eyes spoke of much pain. I smiled, then turned and walked away. I felt frustrated for not saying anything. I told God, "I wanted to do more." Then He reminded me that when you give a cup of water to the least of these, you have done it unto me.
On the way back to the car, I said to Sheldon that I needed to do more. Sheldon understood. I didn't want to second-guess the Holy Spirit's leading, or whether this person deserved my help or not. She was still a child of God. (Maybe rebellion had led the young girl to where she was; it would be easy to make that kind of assumption. But even if it were true, was it really any different from many people who sit in churches— choosing to compromise the Word of God.)
I too am poor in spirit and totally dependent on Jesus. I am thankful for God's many blessings, but also grateful for the season of tears. The book of Ecclesiastes tells us that there is a season for everything, including a time for weeping and a time for mourning. Yet that is not the end of the matter. Psalm 126 tells us that those who sow in tears, shall also reap in joy. I feel as though I need to do more to help people, but all in God's timing.
