On the Way Home from Church…

I take the tab out of my collar as I leave the highway. The guy is by the stoplight. The one with the cardboard sign that says “Homeless Vet, Anything Will Help.” I have no idea who he is but I know who I am.  And I don’t want him to see the collar of a Priest. It’s just too complicated, the guilt, the feelings,  the expectations.  I don’t know who this guy is.  I don’t know where he comes from.  I tell myself it  makes no sense to give this guy money for the liquor store down the street   so he can get into more of what got him on this exit ramp in the first place.  And I do give to the local mission, really, and he can go there if he needs to.  So my tab is in my pocket and I try not to make eye contact as I drive by.  I pray that the light doesn’t change just before I pass  so I have to look him in the eye.  Because I don’t know who he is, but I know who I am and I still feel like somehow I left Christ on the sidewalk.

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One thought on “On the Way Home from Church…”

  1. I felt the same way once when a homeless lady asked me for money and I said NO. I justified myself by saying she would just use it for drugs (if you were in the neighborhood where I was, it would be an accurate assumption) but I still pray for her and ask God for forgiveness for not helping.

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