Sunday morning I found myself in church at a homeless mission in Ft. Worth. I was sitting in the pew and the stench was pungent. I realized it was me. I had been there for 2 days without a shower. I looked around me and wondered at the grace of God. How easily I could have been the one sitting with all of my possessions in the sack beside me. But, instead, I would be at my own home that night with people that loved me, a shower and a warm bed. 

The whole scene of the homeless is overwhelming. It is its own world. Friday night, on the streets, a woman was looking for her friend who had been missing for five days. She was the last one who had been with her. They were high, and some men began chasing them. She made it over the fence. Her friend did not. That night she was getting ready to prostitute herself. She said it just like that – as plain as if I was going to tell you I was going to get a pizza.

When you pass by the faces of those who make their lives on the street, their faces clearly show different things. The ones who have fear and desperation in their faces devastate me. I want so desperately to protect them and get them to a safe place – a warm place. 

There are others who have shame written on their faces. So many have ended up destitute because of one mistake that have led to a million. I met a woman named Tiffany who was in her car with a man laying beside her in the driver’s seat. She was all bundled up with a little red stocking cap. I asked how I could pray for her. She wanted prayer for her three kids that were living with her mother. I discovered her kids were the same ages as my own – the exact same. I offered my prayer and two cold hot dogs. I walked away in unbelief.

The faces of those who carry the blank stare unhinge me the most. The ones that look as if all hope is gone. I want to shake them. I want them to believe me when I say that God can do anything. I’m sure I’d be very convincing with my pearl earrings.

On Sunday morning a man came with his sword. A real sword. He was not allowed into the church with it, and it was put on the side of the building. When he came out, he asked me where his sword was. I told him it was on the side of the building. It wasn’t. He looked at me and said, “What am I going to do? I have five people who want to kill me.” He turned around and started walking away. Where? Is he ok?

Another older man with a beard and scrubs sat down the pew from me. He wanted to be an artist. Later he came in for lunch and was distraught because his sleeping bag had been stolen from him. He had lost his meal ticket and was so agitated – a different person from the one who had sat in the pew 30 minutes earlier.

I came home deflated – not refreshed. I was overwhelmed with their misery.

I began praying harder and as these few days have passed, instead of being overwhelmed with their misery, I have been overwhelmed with God. Just God. I have to believe in His sovereignty because it is the only thing that can give me peace.

I don’t have to feel helpless or hopeless for them because the same God Who loves me, loves them fiercely. 

I can’t help them all, but I can love who is in front of me. I can return next year and do whatever job is given to me. I can give financially to the mission that helps them every single day.  I can do my little part and watch God do His.