I'd walked this way daily since the beginning of September.
I had often glanced at the house wrongly assuming that it was abandoned.
You could see through the wooden slats.
There was trash, everywhere.
No real door.
Dirty clothing hanging in a window.
No, there was someone moving inside.
I thought, “how sad to have to live there.”
My mind wandered to all the different types of {homes} I've observed this year.
Someone else said they'd seen a really rough looking lady there before.
We continued walking – heading either to dinner, the mall, a wifi spot, or the grocery store.
Eight of us were sitting at our favorite Chinese restaurant waiting on our $1.50usd sweet and sour chicken dinner when I saw her for the first time.
I did a double-take.
Wild hair.
Tiny frame with bones poking through her dirty skin.
Small, stained, short spaghetti strap tank top.
Ratty shorts.
Dirty stomach and legs.
She walked awkwardly through the restaurant – half wandering, half looking like she knew what she was doing.
I immediately wondered what and how many drugs she was on.
And how old she was.
And if they were going to kick her out of the restaurant.
She left as quickly as she'd come.
I was in the mall a few days later.
“Hey. There she is and this time she's not wearing pants.”
Sarah gestured out into the main area of the mall.
Of course I knew who she meant.
I got a glimpse of her again.
She was wearing a red plaid t-shirt.
And no bottoms except her stained, small underwear that didn't cover anything.
I immediately wondered if they were going to kick her out of the mall.
Or, if someone else would do something.
I looked at my friends and said, “we've got to do something.”
and I was hoping they'd uh take over the situation.
“Clothe the naked.”
flew through my head and heart.
I said, “I could give her my shorts.” (I was wearing tights under them.)
And then I realized we were in a building full of clothing.
Mmm, logic. Irony?
We picked out a pair of simple black long shorts that were around $2.
I paid for them and immediately pulled the tag off.
I looked at my friends to see who would volunteer to approach her.
After all, I bought the shorts.
They looked back at me.
I headed in her direction.
She was picking up different child size shirts and then holding them against herself as if assessing them for size.
Something's definitely wrong with her.
And I can't believe I can see her whole butt.
I cleared my throat.
Smiled.
And handed her the shorts.
She smiled back and I realized she was missing her front teeth.
I mustered up some enthusiasm and said, “We got these for you!” and I pointed to my own shorts and awkwardly said, “same, same”
She reached for them.
She threw the shorts over her shoulder.
She smiled again.
She went back to browsing through the bin in front of her.
Her body was still exposed, still dirty.
I turned back to my friends, we made eye contact and headed out the back door of the mall. I didn't look back to see if she was still standing there.
This is not the “feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick” I expected to be doing this year. After all that's what my t-shirts say and what I've wanted to do. But, I was obedient in acting when I could and I now lift this woman up to God.
I pray that she would know Him.
That He would bring her back into my path.
I ask that she would feel love and know she's beautiful.
That whatever substances she'd addicted to or mental state she's in that she would receive freedom and health.
That she would regularly be fed, clothed, and cared for.
Not so I can feel righteous but, so that she can have a little glimpse of how much God loves her.
And I pray for myself.
That I'll never miss an opportunity to be Christ to someone.
That I'll see people for who they are – and not based on their appearance.
That I won't question God when I see how broken this world is.
