Purpose

On Fridays I take the train downtown to feed the homeless. For two hours I scoop out vegetables or rice and meat for people that live at the shelter. I don't make much of a difference there. They don't need me there they are not short on kitchen staff (which is made up completely by the residents). They get the meal served whether I am there are not. I try to form relationships with the people. But they are a tough crowd...it is not only a shelter but it is also a rehab most of the people that live there are trying to get clean or stay clean. The ones that are friendly disappear after a couple of weeks. We used to pick up 3 guys on Sunday for church and we all went to lunch Matt would sometimes play ball with them. We went on vacation this summer and when we went back to the shelter they had disappeared. So much so that no one at the shelter knew who they were by the time we got back. This broke my heart. I had nightmares about where they were what they were doing or what was being done to them. So I quit going. I dropped out. I reasoned it away by saying I was too busy, but the truth is that it just hurt to bad to love those people. They were too raw, they lied too much, and then they disappeared. So after about 6 months I went back I felt drawn back. Something in my chest just kept gnawing at me to go back. So I did 4 weeks ago. My friends are still gone there is a new crop of faces some who have already disappeared. I repeat I am of no use at this place . Most of the people don't want me there if they even notice I am there. They get frustrated at me if I do not serve fast enough or if I give them peas when they don't want them, if I give them too much or too little. It is not a warm fuzzy experience. But I am drawn there and I trust there is a reason. So I go every Friday and I wear a hairnet, serve greens, smile at people who hardly ever smile back and when there is a lull I look for my friends and feel torn between being worried and relieved they are not there. I worry about them being on the street and I am hopeful that they stayed clean and reconciled with their children and family. So I scoop greens and I choke back tears, and I have to believe that God has a purpose for me to be there to cry for his children and to pray. Because otherwise I am not much good there.