Gigi's Blog

“Well, how do I do it?” I ask myself this question quite a bit. If you know me at all you know there are 2 things that get me riled up. 

1. Running out of coffee
2. Homelessness

Well for whatever reason only my Father in Heaven knows, I went to the Gaston Gazette website yesterday.  I don’t visit the site.  I did during the Father’s Day online contest when I was voting for Rich, but that’s pretty much the only time.  Yesterday, I typed in www.gastongazette.com.  I was immediately drawn to a story.  It was about a rehab place that is going to be shut down because of the code violations it has.  Well I saw the comments section, and clicked.  I think part of the problem was I already knew in my mind what I would read and when I did I could feel myself losing it.  What caused me to feel I had to comment was when I read that there were choices and options for people who are homeless, and I felt that this person was also criticizing the man who’s running the place as if he has many places he can go to get this house up to code.  It reminds me of that German word meaning: tell an untruth; pretend with intent to deceive-BOLOGNA.  I believe that this is one of those hot button issues of discord within churches.  You have men and women who have worked hard their entire lives, suffered, struggled to put food on their table who say “If a man doesn’t work, he shouldn’t eat.” 2 Thessalonians 3:10.  You have men and women who have been taken advantage of and tricked and fooled.  I understand all this.  My belief though remains.  If God tells you, or me to give that person standing there $1.00 and we do, and they go buy a beer, that is between them and God. If God tells you or me to give that person standing there $1.00 and we don’t, that is between us and God.  People use scriptures of instruction that God is giving to us to apply to our own lives as a means to justify not helping people. 

Matthew 8:20 Jesus replied, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head."  I wonder what the Sadducees and Pharisees thought of Jesus “homelessness?” We look at these people and think we have the blanket answer as to why everyone of them is homeless. John 9:1As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. 2His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"  3"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.

  Hebrews 13:1 Keep on loving each other as brothers. 2Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it. 3Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering. 

Two reasons I see here for some afflictions.

1. To display the work of God
2. To entertain angels

I stopped a long time ago trying to win over people to my opinion on this.  But I am still passionate about my belief.

After my online opinion was displayed I’m left thinking “the problem is me.”

Because they don’t care and they won’t do anything, but I do care, and I’m not doing anything.  I have struggled with this for years.  Feeling called, but unequipt.  No money.  Not much support.  Not much understanding.  But I was reminded of the story we’ve all read numerous times of the loaves and fishes. We focus on the fact Jesus provided, but often we miss the point.  There were needy and hungry people in their midst and the people God chose to help them didn’t have the means to help them.  Sounds like a familiar modern day story of where I find myself.  Wanting to do so much, but “with what?” I ask the Creator the universe as if He can’t make a way.  What if Jesus would have waited for the scholars of the law to respond to the needs of ordinary people in His day????

I guess I’m so very passionate about the needy, because I’m one of them.  A mess up.  A person who has been involved in bad things.  A person who has made so many mistakes.  A person who would be exactly, exactly, where they are had it not been for help given to me, even as recently as Sunday night, when sweet Ashley B. said she wanted to buy Holly B’s cd for me, ‘cause I didn’t have the money.  When we got back from M-fuge Nanny Vickie had bought some groceries and put them in our fridge.  Mark’s parents, my family in Tx.  Some of you.  I’m not better, or different than them.  I AM them. 

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