I get it now. I must confess. Perhaps I was a bit rash when I insisted that Christians take homeless people into their homes and put them up in guest bedrooms that go empty night after night. I mean that sounds good in theory, but in practice…? Wow! You just don’t know what you are getting into. I suppose I should be more careful about the things I insist my brothers and sisters do with their church-houses, their homes, their time, their money and their energy.
Yeah, my house took in this one homeless person that just overwhelmed us. After this experience, I will be much more realistic about things. I mean this guy just cried and whined whenever he didn’t get his way – which it turns out was a lot, and we heard it from him day and night. He was too hot. He was too cold. He got a sniffle. He didn’t like what we were eating and would turn his nose up at it. Never seemed the slightest bit grateful. Never once said “thank you” for anything.
Help him get a job??? Forget it! He was not about to go to work. Wouldn’t even begin to fill out a job application. Perhaps I should have seen it for what it was then and kicked him out.
If you have been reading here long, you may recall my post that featured the guy on the street corner that smelled of piss. He was a hardcore alcoholic who wet his own pants and did not change them or shower for days! Well, this guy managed to mess his pants too. Both number 1 and number 2. And then he needs my help cleaning that stuff up!
Oh MY GOD!!!
I kept trying to see Jesus in him. I kept telling myself that he was the Matthew-25 Jesus (the stranger we took in), but he just exhausted every kindness and charity we could muster. Sometimes I would look into his face and ask myself, “Is this really Jesus?” Then I would wonder, surely Jesus was supposed to comfort me! Jesus is my savior; I am not his – nor am I supposed to be!
And I got to say, waking up at three in the morning to fix him another bottle, change his diaper, and rock him back to sleep in the rocking chair sure makes a guy question all that, alright. If this foster baby is Jesus come to stay in my house, he has come in and turned the tables, scattered my money all over the place, and turned it into a house of prayer alright! (Mark 11:15-17). Yeah, if Jesus comes into your house, whether as a grown man driving everyone out with a whip (John 2:15) or as a baby no one has room at the inn (Luke 2:7), he will take the place over! Might seem hostile to every little agenda you ever set for yourself.
But then as I watch those little eyes get heavy and drift back to sleep, I think I am in the presence of great HOLINESS. I have come to see God and NOT live (Exod. 33:20). My life comes to an end there as his takes me over.
May the servants of the house be prepared for the Master’s return (Mark 13:33-37). May you recognize the day of your visitation! (Luke 19:44). You might just entertain angels unaware (Heb. 13:2) or even God himself (Gen. 18).
(Yes, I typed up this post in the middle of the night. I will let you guess what prompts it.)