I promised y’all I would take you with me throughout this journey and tell you stories that would hopefully encourage you to love big where you are.
Well.
I have some stories.
Except I feel somewhat territorial of these stories. I want to be very careful so as not to exploit the lives that I have encountered. I don’t want to take pictures of kids who don’t know that I’m about to use it for likes on Facebook. I want to interact with people. And pursue them. Which I have and so follows some weird entitlement over the story that came from it.
However, I suppose these are God’s stories, not mine. Still, I would ask that anything I say here would be read with respect for the people involved and for me and the very real feelings surrounding them.
It was our last full day of ministry in Albania. Alyssa and I went out to get flowers for our contacts when we passed by a homeless man at the end of our driveway. He was sleeping, clothed in dust and a torn ensemble of gathered pieces. A bucket on his head. The kind of ice cream gallon bucket. Still not sure why, other than for my comedic relief. It seemed to be a comfort mechanism for him.
I felt a nudge as we walked by and deliberately replied in my head with a big fat, “No. I am not doing anything, God because it won’t amount to anything. I can’t help this man.”
Got flowers. Had to come back. Passed by again. Nudge. Big nudge.
“This is why you’re here, Babygirl.”
“Dang.”
Went inside and asked if anyone wanted to come with me to buy a bag of groceries for this man. With any hope, he would sleep through the entire thing and I could chalk it up to that.
My sweetheart, Katie Mastropaolo of course offered up some presence.
Dang. Now I actually had to do this the “right Christian Jesus way” and change this guy’s life.
We started down the driveway towards him and a car pulls in. It was like slow motion. We could see it coming a mile away and sure enough, the car ran over the man’s foot.
KT and I, “Oh, no no no! His foot! No no no no no.”
Some reason, that’s all we could say..
Ran up to him crying and grabbing his bleeding foot. A few layers of skin grated off and the car half way down the drive pulling into their house. KT ran back to get a first aid kit and Sarah, our lil R.N. of the team.
I sat in front of him trying to comfort him in any way. Just praying the most simple thing, “God please heal this man.”
He had dark skin, dark hair, and creamy green eyes above his dark beard. And any time we made eye contact, I didn’t see fleshly pain. I saw that he was heartbroken. How many times must he go unnoticed? How many times in his life must he be treated as an extension of dirt and just get run over with it?
The aid came and of course scared him so he started walking away, dragging his foot with him. We watched. We were letting him.
I jumped up and grabbed the aid kit out of Sarah’s hand saying, “We can help him.”
Against reasoning from the hosts and teammates that he was mental and couldn’t understand what I was trying to do. Bull. He doesn’t know how to receive care, maybe. He has mental disorders, maybe. He stinks and is getting away, definitely. None of these are reasons to give up on someone.
Stepped in front of him showing him the first aid kit. Begging he sit down and let us help. I began crying and do not know that I have ever felt so desperately compassionate. He wouldn’t sit, y’all. He just looked at me, in the middle of the city. Life going on all around. And here he and I were having one of the most prolific exchanges I may ever experience. Me in desperate pursuit beyond all reason and him reflecting a familiar image of someone in a state of utter confusion of how to receive help and care.
How do you pursue someone? Never give up.
How can you be pursued? Receive.
Funny how the latter ends up being the more impossible one.
I ran back to the house in tears. With all the dramatic flare I could muster, I sat in the staircase. KT came and extended the invitation to still buy him groceries and find him. With my tail under my bum, I said ok.
Went back out and couldn’t find him. Didn’t want to go back so we kept walking. And sure enough. There he was down the way. I got big eyed and excited. He shuttered.
“This girl won’t leave me alone.”
We got some groceries and came back and sat in front of this man one last time. Tried showing him how to put a gauze on the bleeding to no avail. Tried putting my hand on his knee and say, “peace” to no avail. Stood up and walked home.
He was very confused.
This girl just won’t get out of my life.
No. I won’t. Because if Jesus listened to all of the reasoning surrounding me in my stinky, mental running state, I wouldn’t be here. Jesus showed me a little bit of how He felt when He pursued me. And continues to pursue me. Relentless. And without reason.
