But Now I See

So my trip to Bethel was awful.  A W F U L  Aside from lengthy travel time (it took 24 hours to make what should have been an 8 hour trip with all the layovers, stops and whatnot), my journey was filled with creepy looking folk, stomach issues, a painfully cramping backside due to the prolonged sitting, fist fights, theft and other pleasantries.  

After I finished with my appointment (which, by the way, was stellar - the only redeeming part of my trip) and took an Uber back to the Greyhound station to catch the bus home, fresh horrors awaited me as I stepped out into the stifling, smokey 105 degree heat.  I had a lag time of 2 1/2 hours to wait for my bus, which I wasn’t feeling at all.  There was no sheltering building with air-conditioning awaiting me or the other passengers, just an open air design with a few benches, so I parked it on a cement seat and began to watch the minutes crawl by, bemoaning my infernal wait. 

As I sat, it suddenly occurred to me that I should reach out to God.  As elemental and basic as the epiphany may sound, I was so knee deep in the uncomfortableness of my trip, that I had neglected to lift my eyes heavenward for any sort of help or guidance.  I guess you could say I’d been white knuckling it up until that point.  But desperate as I was to find a reason for the perpetuated misery I was in, I finally came to my senses and asked Him to give me His eyes to see the situation with, ‘cause I was fadin’ fast.  

No sooner did I pray, that with a jolt (as much as one can be jolted in 105 degrees, that is), I became aware of an elderly lady sitting next to me.  Her wrinkled arms, thin as toothpicks rested on the handlebars of a walker that looked like it carried all that she held dear in the world.  She asked me my name and gave me hers.  I tried to spark a dialogue with her after that, but she looked away so I left her alone.  Just then a security guard passed by asking her how she was doing and I heard her tell him that her toes had just been amputated.  I looked down at her slippers and winced.  She finally got up and shuffled across the way to catch her bus.  I wondered where she was going and what would become of her…

Soon after, a man with two big plastic garbage bags full of clothes came and plunked them down where the lady had been sitting.  He looked clean and honest, if not homeless, but I keep an eye on him anyway - I was more than a little fearful in my unfamiliar surroundings.  The dude didn’t look like he wanted to hack me, however, so I chose not to change seats and continued to bide my time, open to whatever dialogue might come up between us.

He circled the sidewalk for a while, looking like he had much on his mind then stopped and asked me what the good word was.  I responded with a comment about God and he nodded, continuing on with his pensive pacing.  He eventually tried to buy a ticket to Oregon, but his card was declined.  I could see that this was a very big deal for him and watched as shock and disbelief indeed filled his face.  Collecting himself, he made a phone call to someone and explained why he wouldn’t be coming to visit, exhorting whoever it was to hold strong and not give up.  It sounded like a desperate situation.  I couldn’t help but think that here was this down and out guy encouraging someone else when I’m sure he himself could’ve used the cheer…  

Continuing on with my eavesdropping, I found out that he had just gotten out of a shelter and that in lieu of Greyhound, his next step would be to get on local transit and ride around, in the hopes that something would come up.  My heart broke as I watched him heave up his bags and slowly walk towards the bus, I wished I could’ve bought him the ticket.

At this point, I needed to stretch my legs - I’d been sitting for almost 13 hours straight - so I took a slow, cautious (as there were lots of ahem, shady-looking elements in the vicinity) stroll around the station, trying not to pass out from the heat.  I didn’t make it far before I decided to sit down again.  This time, I chose a spot close to a dejected-looking young man with a duffle bag next to his feet who had previously asked me for some bus money.  I’d given it to him though secretly I’d wondered where it was  really gonna end up…  I guess he’d been honest though, because there he sat, waiting for Greyhound.

I lowered myself down with an unceremonious plop and proceeded to study him out of the corner of my eye.  He looked to be about 20 with a mop of brown hair that poked out from underneath a baseball cap and a mustache.  Sitting hunched with his elbows resting on his knees the way he was, it looked like he had lost all his fight.  

At this point, I felt a tug to reach out to him even though I didn’t want to (beat by the heat as I was).  I ended up opening my mouth and asking him if he was thirsty.  He turned to me looking surprised that someone had actually acknowledged him and I could see that he was indeed parched by the saliva that had dried up on the sides of his mouth (is it any wonder?).  And In a voice barely louder than a whisper he said that he was, so off I went to buy him a bottle of water.  Before I left though, I made sure to fish out the remainder of my food and give it to him.  He took it with gratitude and a few moments later when I tapped him on the shoulder with the ice cold liquid, his eyes almost popped out of his head.  Looking like he had just won the lottery, he shyly reached out his hand for the drink.  I had the sense that he had been going at it completely on his own for a chunk, just trying to survive.  

The young man’s surprise at my small act of kindness had caused me to wonder if anybody had reached out to him or any of the others like him I’d met that afternoon.  Probably not was my guess and this, not out of a maliciousness or callousness, but when things happen and we’re in survival mode, it’s our tendency to only look out for our own and not zero in on others people’s plight.  Combine this with the fact that we usually live in our own bubbles anyway, is it any wonder our society is so broken down?     

I’m certainly not trying to elevate myself to Mother Teresa status here, as there have been plenty of times I’ve turned a blind eye (more than plenty in fact) to the needs of my fellow man.  But I’ve always felt that when there is a call it is our obligation, if at all possible, to fill it.  Proverbs 3:24 comes to mind:  “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act…”  Never before did that passage ring as true as it did on that hellaciously hot August afternoon.   

    

More tales of woe continued to unravel themselves before my eyes as I sat waiting for my ride outta hell, too many to recount.  Maybe it was because the heat had gotten to me, or the fact that I could see that the fires, which had devastated most of the surrounding area, had dipped the morale to a dangerous low but I felt such a resigned desperation as I sat at that station - as if I was literally experiencing it on my own skin, right along with everyone else.  

Musing, I realized that the travail along my trip had served to break down all my defenses, allowing the reality of the moment to seep into my blood in a manner that it wouldn’t have any other way.  The long, angsty hours of my journey, the emotional appointment I’d had at Bethel and my own innate compass for compassion towards the disenfranchised and homeless had all served to magnify the desperation and hopelessness that screamed at me in the station.  

I know my eyes were opened that day for a reason and I feel that reason was for me to get a little taste of the plight of the needy, so I could do just what I’m doing now - highlight their drama.  Later, as I sat in the cool of the bus, I thought about the people I’d met and how I wished I could have helped them, I mean really helped them beyond just feeling bad and buying someone a water...  

There is a crisis.  Many are not doing well in our society and it’s up to those of us who have the power to act (and most of us do) to step up and do something about it.  Otherwise, we’ll have completely missed the point of what we profess to stand for as Christians and as human beings.  Dear God, open our eyes to see and anoint our hands to do your work, amen.