I don’t really understand the word “homeless.” In effort, it is trying to communicate the meaning of someone being without a home, yet it is only saying that they have “less” of a home. If you’ve ever met a homeless person you will realize that it is even more than a home that they are missing. They are not merely left with less of a home than others, but are completely without a home and even some of life’s necessities. Perhaps a better word would be, “Homewithout.”
A few nights ago I returned from a long six week stint of travel. There was nothing more that I wanted than to just return “Home” – to a place of comfort and familiarity. However, because of my current living structure I had nowhere to go. I was somewhat sad about it, so to try to rid my gloomy attitude I stopped in downtown Chicago for a bite to eat and an evening walk. As I traveled down a bustling street I followed the flow of foot traffic and walked right past a homewithout lady hiding in a small corner of a building. She was holding out an empty cup in one hand and her sleeping child in the other. I didn’t make it more than half of a block until I was convicted to go back. It was as if an audible voice said to me, “Take care of the widows and their children.”
I turned around and walked toward the woman. When I was about ten feet away our eyes locked. Her look of hopelessness was overbearing. I didn’t even say “Hi” or “Are you okay” before I stated, “Why are you not in a shelter, miss? You need to get to safety with your daughter.”
My initial questions led to a conversation. She explained to me she had a place to stay, but she could pay the bills. She was part of Section Eight (government supported housing) but she was short to come up with the money for rent, electricity and gas. As we conversed her daughter was sound asleep in her lap.
“What’s her name?” I asked as I wrapped her daughter’s small limp hand around my finger.
“Te-Te,” she replied with a smile as if the world’s problems just went away, “She’s two.”
“I wish there was something I could do to help you, Mam.” I sighed. “The truth is that I’m kinda homeless tonight too, and I don’t have much to give you but I’ll give you what I can.”
I reached inside my pocket to find a few extra ones and a five dollar bill. “Here, take this, I know it is not enough to turn on the lights or pay the rent, but I’ll pray God provides for you. Can I pray for you now?”
Hopeful, she burst out, “Oh yes, please do.”
She lowered her cup and clincher her eyes shut nearly as tight as she was holding her child. Together we prayed and I asked God to intervene. An indescribable peace came over my heart, and it must have calmed her as well because her nervous actions stilled.
While I was praying, a man’s raspy voice from the other side of the wide sidewalk said, “Thank you for helping us.” I slightly opened my eyes to see that it was another homewhithout man passing by.
“…in the precious name of Jesus, Amen.”
“Thank you sir,” she said with a sweet smile and moist eyes.
“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”
“Shaketa”
“I’m Josh. I’ll be praying for you Shaketa, and Te-Te too. God will provide.”
Homelessness is a shameful thing; even if it was a shameful thing that got you there. But homelessness doesn’t always mean hopelessness. God still tends to those who seek His face.
May we never forget that we are all merely “homeless.” We have less of the home we were intended to have because we are only sojourners in this land. However we are not “homewithout.” We have a home, safe with Christ, and soon we will join Him there and experience the full joy of being at “Home.”