As many of you know, I moved to Grover Beach, California to
attend a nine month leadership ministry school about three weeks ago. It feels
like it’s been months. The only time the homesickness has welled came when I
was getting my oil changed in my car, something about that country music and smell of a
workshop caused the tears to bubble up. I must say, I feel pretty spoiled
living so near the deep blue sea. I’ve been able to bike part of Highway 1,
hike one of nine volcanic mountains in the area, have a bonfire on the beach,
and even took a whack at surfing with my Dad.
Classes have been incredible. Upon the first day of
orientation I knew this is exactly where I am to be, for now. Gods already been
stretching me so much in my time here and I’ve found myself wrestling with
things that I may say verbally but in my heart, I don’t necessarily agree with
or even, simply know how to live it. This blog post is mostly meant with the
intention of updating those who I haven’t had much of a chance to connect with
since moving, as well as, processing some reoccurring thoughts of mine that I
have yet to establish what I think. I’m inviting you, as a reader on a computer
somewhere out there, to engage. To let me know what you think, how this made you
feel, and what you’re currently learning about love.
A few weeks ago, my roommate met a homeless guy on the
beach. They hung out for the day and she came alive loving on this man who had
yet to know the encompassing love of Jesus. She called asking if he could come
over for some snacks and a movie night. Party time. We invited some friends to
join the fun and the evening began with our new friend.
Warning: I’m about to get brutally honest with the hopes of genuine
feedback from you.
This man was filled with thoughts and notions that blew me
away. He openly shared of his past, mostly on the streets, as his parents were
drug addicts. He shared his beliefs regarding spiritual matters and religion. I
often found myself thinking, “I'm sorry, what?” His thoughts hard to
connect with at times and then other times, he was clearer than the view of the
ocean out my kitchen window. I knew he needed an encounter with the sweet Jesus
I talk to all the time but how? I mean, I’ve hung out with many a homeless
before, I’ve spent hours just being with people who in my time with them never
accepted the Lord. I “know” what I should be saying and doing but all of a
sudden, I realize we have welcomed a man into our home that is presenting and
carrying many of the things I fight to keep out. He was speaking untrue things
about Jesus, the One I love. How do I open my arms and welcome someone who
disagrees so blatantly with what I know to be true and yet, treat him with the
inexhaustible love and grace I’m given daily?
Night came and he needed a place. I had thoughts running
through my head of fear, logic, and practicality. I had thoughts piercing my
heart of love, compassion, and a desire of being abundant with what I have.
Another friend stayed for the sake of safety but we gave our new friend the
garage. He had a dog, so it just seemed to make sense, right? I tossed and
turned that night.
What would Jesus have done?
Seriously. I’m not just throwing those words around, I’m not
mindlessly repeating a sermon I heard with a five point essay of “how to love a
homeless man.” I’m asking a legitimate question, how do we love? How do I love
my neighbor? How do I actually love the brokenhearted with padded bank accounts
and those that don’t know where their next meal will come from? I’m tired of
loving with caution and comfort. I mean that but then here we are again, at
that intersection of what comes out of your mouth and where actions back it up.
Should I have given this man I didn’t know my own bed? Did
he walk away that next morning after pancakes and think “I liked them, they were different”? Or were we just another bunch of stiff people who quoted Scripture and regurgitated what we've heard before. It
was that night and many since that I’ve found myself deeply wrestling with my
own selfishness and even need to prove myself. I am pretty dang good at being
sweet and nice but what about radical and selfless? What about loving till it
hurts- what does that even mean?
So here we are, I’ll stop before we hit the mini novel
status. I apologize for not being neat and leaving you feeling inspired but then again,
if I was able to ruffle your feathers and make you think. Praise Jesus.
Christians aren’t called to be mindless. Christians aren’t called to be
comfortable and just smile kindly. We are called to love. Join me on the lifelong
journey to discovering what that really, truly means?
