I stood in downtown Orlando last night watching fireworks. The fireworks were gorgeous--bright whites, purples, and reds all breaking up over the buildings of downtown Orlando. I stood in front of a Baptist church with with a long front porch and white colonnades--a very southern architectural scheme. On the porch of the Baptist church were thirty plus homeless people. They had all set up camp for the night. They had marked their places with the blankets that the church provides every night.
The contrast was surreal. Above me the sky was breathtaking--behind me was one of the painful realities of life in the US: homelessness. (It has its various causes--mental illness, drug abuse, terrifically bad luck.)
My students have started a homeless ministry, and I was just along for the ride. We came down to pass out clothes (jackets, shirts, pants, underwear and socks). We also came to just hang out. I ended up kneeling and chatting with a woman who I guessed was in her early twenties if not teens. She sat next to her husband in his early thirties. We talked about their life. She had grown up on a farm and loved horses--"a real country girl" she said. He also had spent sometime in middle-of-no-where cities.
I don't know how much I can do to actually help the homeless (so many of their needs goes beyond handouts). I asked a friend about it on the way home. He told me the story of the pool Bethesda. He noted that there were dozens of sick people there, but Jesus only healed one. He said, you help prayerfully with wisdom, you establish relationships with the homeless, you let them know that this isn't about getting your good works done, and you let them know you care.
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