So I met a man named William today. He stumbled into the Santa Cruz Homeless Shelter two years ago after being driven to the streets by his alcoholism. A recent bought with his drug of choice had landed him in the hospital, but without health insurance could only get so much help.
As he stood in the food line there was a call for help in the kitchen. No one answered.
He thought to himself about the absurdity of hungry people refusing to help themselves or make any sort of contribution.
He has been helping in the kitchen almost every day for two years and was hired on as a cook last month. He is clean, kind, and admits to his anal retentiveness about how the floors ought to be waxed.
Today we scrubbed and moped and waxed, but there are still dirt tracks permanently pressed into checkerboard diamond tiles. They have been used, and used well. Sure, some people will yell at you because they just want their handout or maybe they don’t want anything from you at all.
I don’t want to grow up to be cynical. There is a realistic approach and, most likely, a sense of detachment necessary for that sort of work, but meeting people like William show me that there is obvious good being done here; however, the desire must come from within. In the same manner that I could not get brown streaks out of the floor today, it is not my responsibility to force people to walk through the door . . . I just have to be there to keep it open.
Jesus loves us. This I know.
1 response so far ↓
Mom // October 27, 2008 at 1:25 am |
May your life be filled with many “Williams” and may you always possess the ability to overlook the brown streaks, as they will always exist in any well-used ministry; and that is the only sort of ministry to which you should lend yourself. Its what Jesus would do.