Love God And Love Your Neighbor

I went to the Mission de nombre de Dios here in Saint Augustine, Florida to sit on my favorite stone bench by the rustic altar. I was all alone. And I walked up to cross of Jesus where he is there displayed with all the nails in him. I touched his feet and I said, "Thank you dear Lord for dying on the cross for me and my sins, for which they are many." I looked out on the bay. And I began my reading in the book of Mark. Jesus was explaining to the disciples why he often used parables. And why some are shown the things of God and others are not. And I saw a fin appear from a large sea creature in the bay, it was that of a porpoise. And he swam in like circles for about five minutes then he was on his way back to the ocean. And then I looked up to an eagle sitting on the Great Cross. And I thought to myself, for those who do not believe, there is more evidence of a holy God than there is not. If one needs proof, just look around. God created it all. Believe on him, won't you? Then, I went downtown to the Post Office to check my mail. And a United States veteran was standing on the corner of Martin Luther King Blvd/King St, along with a woman aged from the sun, who was sitting. He told me that they are both homeless because of "bad divorces." Then, he asked me, "Do you know anyone who has a job?" (This should dispel any notion that all homeless people do not wish to work and are lazy). I told him about a website where he could search. He was most thankful. And then I went to my car and got something out of my styrofoam cooler for him and the lady to eat. And then I told him a Bible story, about how Jesus had no place to lay his head. And I do hope that I helped lift his spirit. And we said our, "God Bless You's" and I felt good in my heart. What have you done for Jesus today? Help someone won't you?

The prayer of a homeless man

I visit the United Methodist Church
the one on the corner where
the homeless panhandle
for their daily bread
I sit in the right front pew, alone
The minister asks us to stand
for a song of dedication
It is the final hymn
The organist positions her hands
on the keys, the music begins
and voices are raised to
“…Take my life and let it be…”
I lift up my voice in song
I am filled with the Spirit of God
A man not in church attire
runs down the isle to the altar
and drops violently to his knees to pray
He looks like he might be homeless
he has that look of desperation his face
The minister kneels down beside him
I struggle to sing the song
but I cannot even though I try
the tears flow down my cheeks
and inside I am broken for that man
And all the homeless people in the land
And I say, “dear Lord it shouldn’t be”
And then I hear the words,“consecrated to thee”
and I think if all my tears went up to the Lord as a prayer
then they were not in vain.

End Homelessness In America

What does homelessness feel like?

It feels like you have layed down on the railroad tracks to go to sleep and then a train comes and runs you over while you are sleeping.

Homeless in Winter

Now I lay me down to sleep
On this log in Bangor woods deep
The icy chill I feel in my bones
Is nothing compared to this feeling alone
I think of you in your warm bed
While I lay here feeling almost dead
Then I look up on the one bright star
and I remember my God is not very far
He who died taught us how to love one another
But I lay here with no help from you my brother
I wonder have you forgotten me?
*I wrote this poem after reading a news story of a homeless couple living in the woods of Bangor, Maine. I imagined what winter must feel like.

The homeless lady who wasn't

Do you think you would know a homeless person who wasn’t, if you saw one? Probably not. Not the classy kind of homeless person. Yeah, that would be the middle aged woman (who considers herself to be a lady). She drives over to the beach where there is a State Park and changes into her bathing suit and washes her temple in ivory soap and shampoos her auburn hair, early enough in the morning in hopes that she will avoid all the early birds who arrive at dawn for their morning walk, early fishing excursion, or those who sit in their car and gaze on women taking showers. She changes in the restroom into an outfit that would most likely disguise her from the appearance of homelessness. She appears in a dress, with hair combed, perfumed body, and head held high and with her manner of dress, would go a countenance of joyfulness, that everything in her life is just fine. She exudes the love of Jesus, despite her situation. And as she walks to her car, she tries to not draw any attention to herself. It terrifies her, the thought that someone might know, because the last thing that this homeless person wants you to take from her, is her dignity, because after all, it is about all she has left of herself. She drives away, and feels a sense of accomplishment, because for one more day, no one noticed, the homeless lady who wasn’t.
Heartstrings Two, Copyright © 2008 by Library of Congress

Stealing

I have a thought. To not offer someone something that they need, to me, if a form of stealing from them. The reason is because, the Bible says, “He who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins” (James 4:17). If you know someone who needs a job and you have a job for them for pay, to offer them the job would help them, to not, means that you have withheld from them something that could have helped them. In the same way, if you know someone has no bread and you have a piece of bread to offer, why would you keep it? To me, you steal when you know that someone is hungry and you did not even offer a piece of bread to them. This is serious. Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.” Bread symbolizes fellowship with him. You have not only stolen food, but fellowship with the Lord. For the Christian body to withhold bread would seem to be an even greater offence because we all make up the body. To me, no matter how little you have you can always offer a piece of bread to someone. There is no excuse and the penalty may cost you your life with Jesus, forever. "Thou shalt not steal” (Exodus 20:15).
Heartstrings Two, Copyright 2008 © by Library of Congress

All he had to live on

I saw a man the other day in real time, broad daylight, twelve noon, here in the Southern city of Jupiter, Florida. I could not believe what I saw and as strange as it was, I had seen it in the Northern city of Biddeford, Maine this spring. It is not just a Southern problem. This guy was stopped on his bike, having crossed the bridge; he was positioned next to a church and was attempting to balance, from what I could see: two plastic bags of groceries, a backpack and the most surprising, a twin mattress. Yes, you heard me right. He was carrying his bed. Anyone could be in this situation, and what *Mark Twain’s character Huck Finn said is quite true, "People can be awful cruel to one another.” They just drive right on by and really do not seem to care. When I talk to people about homelessness they say things like: “Yeah, but some do not want any help,” “They brought it on themselves,” “There is plenty of work out there, they are just lazy,” “They are drunks,” “They just want a hand out…”And I wonder if it has ever occurred to these people who make these statements, that homeless people might just need a little encouragement such as: a kind word, a place to sleep for the night, other than that spot in the woods or the city park bench. Have you ever slept in your car? I think of those who do not have a car and sleep in a cardboard box. And then I think of all the money in these United States of America, the “United We Stand, Divided We Fall,” United States. And I wonder why. *The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Heartstrings Two, Copyright © 2008 by Library of Congress

Greed

Greed is the excessive desire to acquire or possess more (especially more material wealth) than one needs or deserves. When I think of greed, I think of the city in which I live which used to be a town. It has grown and with it has grown greed. I need look no farther than all the new homes being built, the ones that are already built, some inhabited, some not. On most any day I will see people working the grounds and many of them do not speak English. There will be a foreman nearby and they usually come in on the boss man's truck where they are privileged to sit in the back, out in the heat, while he sits in the cab. The worker will smile at you, but it looks forced. I always wonder when I see these people, (who have feelings by the way) if they ever wonder why they have to sit in the back of the truck. I have noticed most of these trucks are landscaping vehicles. I feel sorry for these people. The Bible says in James 5: 4 (NIV) "The wages you failed to pay the workmen who mowed your fields are crying out against you." One might say someone has to mow the grass. This may be true, but just for a moment think about how you would feel if you had to be out in the heat all day working on some rich guy's property and then go home to your "little shack in the woods." I also understand how the rich might feel that they earned this kind of living, but at the same time I cannot help but think of the guy sleeping under the bridge at night and I wonder why. How does this love your neighbor as yourself?
Heartstrings Two, Copyright © 2008 by Library of Congress