3 beds and 3 couches

We are really lucky to have lots of different people in our lives.  We have some people that breathe life into us through friendship and like-mindedness.  Others who share our interests and fight for the same causes as we do.  Family and long time friends that offer us the gift of memories and familiarity.  And then there is a completely different population that keeps our heart in check, reminds us that we are not entitled to all that we have, but rather that our very life is simply God's grace.  These special people are everywhere in my life.  They are shopping next to me at the grocery store - a single mom exhausted and worn out, an elderly man with just a few items in his grocery cart to remind me that his lives alone.  My children are aware of these people too.  Some of these people are homeless, addicted and buried in the weight of consequences from either their own choices or the selfish sins of someone else.  These people are around every turn in our small town. 

On Tuesdays our family celebrates 'date night'.  Dan and I each take one of the boys for a special date and then we meet for dinner, sometimes at Applebees (kids eat free:).  One of the homeless men that we love is a dishwasher there.  Our kids love him, he loves them too and on a few occasions he has slept over.  He is an amazing man.  I cannot eat dinner on these special nights without thinking of him.  Why am I not the one washing dishes?

Another man that our family is blessed to know is sleeping in an outdoor pavilion.  We took him dinner, gloves and a hat last week, but the anguish of leaving him there in the freezing cold remains on my heart everyday. 

A woman that I met last year, a beautiful woman with a bright smile and strawberry blond hair, is battling cancer.  She has fought this battle before and knows the horrors of chemo and radiation and has chosen not to use either treatment this time.  So she fights...not just the evil cancer but the heartache of having four children, a loving husband and an uncertain future.  I think about her several times a day and a physical pain fills my heart with every thought. 

And most recently my heart aches for a new character in our life.  If you could see him, his size would tell you that he is a man, but to know him you'd realize quickly that he is just a boy - sweet, innocent, awkward at times and lovable all the same.  Because of a series of circumstances and a few of his own mistakes, he has been on his own for the past 3 years.  For the last year he has been in a homeless shelter.  After much generosity on the missions behalf, it is now time for him to be on his own, perhaps homeless.

Here's what keeps me up at night:  We have 3 beds and 3 couches that could be his.  Our home is modest, but from the perspective of someone who may be sleeping outside our home is a mansion.  And we have come to realize that the only reason God blesses us, any of us, is to bless others.  And yet Dan and I wrestle with the need to protect our boys, who are our primary ministry and also be sure to always offer a hand UP, not a hand out.  So as much as the anguish consumes my heart and keeps me in a constant state of burden for others, I have to listen to the Holy Spirit, wait for His whisper and then obey.  Many times Jesus has asked us to open our home to others, since everything is really Gods and we are simply the stewards.  But in this particular case, that is not His will.  So how would our Heavenly Father want me to be His love... I spent the afternoon with this boy/man.  We walked to the library.  He went to storytime with Kadan and Jaxan.  We walked home and played in the backyard and then after a couple hours, I asked him to leave.

The anguish was there all along.  I wanted to invite him in for lunch and treat him as I would my own boys.  But the Spirit had whispered and as a bond servant to my Creator, my only choice was to obey.  The anguish still lingers today and will be there tomorrow, but if that is the price to have a heart of compassion and eyes to see the world like Jesus, I will live in it and continue to look for chances to obey.