Every time I go and look inside
Some cranny of this urban blight
I find them there...
...Cracked up, insane, fizz on a brain
Sinners in the hands of angry gods
Disposed and deposed
Nagging symptoms of the cancer we refuse to acknowledge
“Get out of the street or I’ll arrest you!”
The Law spoke and I listened with guilty-glee
It doesn’t matter that he’s my brother, she’s a mother
None of us are angels in this city
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3 comments:
I am lost in my mind
high because I feel so low
cant do no good
God is always angry
no mom to lull me to sleep
how did I get this way?
I work for an urban ministry. One of our programs serves the homeless. They have never caused any problems--other than taking a sink shower or two in our agency bathroom. And every once in a while, there's an incoherent outburst. But mostly, they just want connection, and they find it at our center.
Some of my colleagues want to get rid of them. They think we should only be about youth ministry. The homeless are unsafe and unclean, they say. Nobody but me mentions that the only person to ever bring a gun into our agency was a teen.
I have a heart and a calling for youth service, but I don't think that precludes one's ability to serve other populations. I don't understand that kind of thinking. I don't believe God separates people in need out in His mind, He doesn't decide who is the most deserving. I think every one is precious to Him, and that, in turn, He calls us to see each of His children, through His eyes, as valuable, unique, and worthy being treated with respect and dignity.
I'm far from where I want to be in terms of my relationships with homeless people. I still snicker at the crazy ones and turn up my nose at offensive fumes. But Lord please help me if I ever stop seeing them as people who just want to be loved.
I was thinking about homeless people when I read the following psalm this morning. I wonder if things would be different for some, if they knew that God felt this way about them.
Psalm 139
1 O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.
5 You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, [a] you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Sorry for the typos--my message posted before I was finished.
At any rate, I have a great appreciation for your poem, and the allusions to the homeless in previous posts. It has got me thinking about how we, even city warriors, sometimes fall on our swords in regards to these precious ones. Thank you for the reminder.
There are a million urban programs, it seems, to serve the homeless. Many ineffectively. What's the answer? At the risk of sounding cheesy, perhaps it is the individual person who, like you, takes the time to think deeply. And then acts on those thoughts, and offers a hand. I believe if more people took the time to really think and perform acts of compassion, rather than just shoo them away, there wouldn't be so many people who are homeless. I heard on the radio the other day: even one simple word of kindness could change a person's life forever.
Sorry for the long reply. You write poems. I write books. :-)
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