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to stephanie.

photo credit: morguefile.

15 Oct to stephanie.

I have spent the past two nights walking around my neighborhood.

And I am amiss again thanks to my big empathetic heart. We’ve discussed before how I am a highly sensitive introvert, no need to bore you, but the long & short of the story is:

I feel all of the feels, deeply, most of the time.

Now as I wandered through my city with adult eyes, but still my big ole stinkin’ feeling heart wildly beating in my chest, I was struck yet again at this group of people that I cannot get over.

I didn’t have to wander far to pass a man rummaging through the garbage cans that lined the street. Half a block later, I passed two men sitting on the sidewalk. They spoke to me and so I stopped. I stopped dead in my tracks, looked up from the book I was reading and stared them straight in the eyes.

It hurt.

For just a moment I could see & acknowledge the depth of their stories.

I hurried along quickly and made some stupid apathetic, “hope you have a great night,” comment as I rushed off when my nerves reminded me that they could be dangerous. And, of course, there is always the possibility that they could be, even if not likely.

I thought about those men and all of the people I pass by who don’t have a place to call home all night.

I wanted to buy them sandwiches while I was at the store, but couldn’t find a pre-made sandwich. I thought, “I’ll just buy bread,” and that is more than nothing, but something within me stopped me from doing anything. Perhaps it was the (false) idea that a sandwich wouldn’t change much (but it would fill their bellies.) And I was ashamed to be grateful for their attention-absorbed conversation when I passed by a while later.

Tonight, I ventured back out. Much too late & much too far, I might add. As I was leaving the store and heading for home—almost on the exact same corner as the guys I met the night before—a woman asked if I had any food. I told her I didn’t and kept walking.

“Emily….?” a wiser, more loving voice whispered. It was a lie. I had gone to the store for chocolate (I go to the grocery a lot; this is a great time to remind you this is a judgment free zone.) I had bought my normal bag of chocolate bits, but also a chocolate bar (because when you buy the five ingredient gluten and dairy free stuff you by excess when on sale).

“I have a bar of chocolate!” I said and turned around, heading back to her. “Do you want some chocolate?” I asked meekly, knowing she would know I had lied before.

The wiser, more loving voice chuckled, “every girl wants chocolate, Emily.”

She smiled a huge smile, her front tooth leaving a gaping hole. “Oh, gaw. Yes, chocolate! Thank you so much.”

I asked her for her name & she told me it was Stephanie. I told her I hoped she enjoyed it. You guys, she was so excited she could barely get the thing open. I offered to help, but I think she was afraid I might change my mind. Then do you know what she said…?

“Thanks for not spitting on me or yelling at me…”

Dear Jesus, there has to be a better way.

She didn’t thank me again for the food. She didn’t thank me for stopping. She thanked me for not treating her as less than myself. She thanked me for not treating her like a human undeserving of the same respect I hold. She thanked me for seeing her as another human being.

I told her I was sorry for that and that I hoped she had a blessed night.

This is not a political statement. This will not be a political debate. This is about people. This is about our neighbors. This is about decent humanity. This is about the depth of suffering going on in our world. I work intimately with our suffering so I stay far away from politics and the nightly news. I see deception, pain, suffering, & grief enough.

What this is? This is a call to more. Many look at our generation and the hand basket we have all been woven into headed straight to hell. Our teens lost in technology, our men trapped in a screen of images that kill relationships, our women starving themselves, people killing others for no good reason. Hopeless, perhaps.

But I also see kids helping save lives. I see teens starting campaigns to fight cancer. I see people my age beginning organizations to feed the homeless and serve those stuck in slavery, spreading messages of worth, love & acceptance. I see innovation. So I believe there is a damn good chance, we can do better.

We can do better than judging a person based on their circumstances. We can do better than believing a person is solely the summation of where life has them today. We can do better than treating those in “lesser” circumstances than ourselves as if they are less than us.

I’ve heard it all before… “They chose that.” “They’re deadbeats.” “No good drunkards.” “They probably had that coming.” Or worst, the sympathetic, but truly self-serving, “bless their hearts.”

I don’t know about you, but I am deeply blessed. And it isn’t because I am that much smarter or hard working than many other people. Yes, I work hard and, yes, I am smart, but do not deceive yourself for one minute and believe that I have not been showered blessing upon blessing that I do not deserve.

Chances are high that if you’re reading this…the same is true for you.

What brought each individual—whether poor decisions, mental illness, really hard life, or a combination of all of the above—is none of your damn business. Maybe life hasn’t been cruel to them, but they made terrible choices. It doesn’t matter. Let’s be clear: what is your business is that we are all people, real, alive human beings. Each one someone’s daughter or someone’s son. A person! A real-life, God-breathed person. Who does not deserve to be spit upon. Who, if nothing else, does deserve the courtesy of acknowledging that they are alive. They have a heart in their chest just like you. They have a brain in their head, just like you. They feel pain and joy and they worry…just like you. WE ALL DO. The reality is that there is no “they” or “them” and “us.” We are all just we. People. Children of God.

Maybe the people you struggle with aren’t the homeless, but those of a different colored skin, a different ethnicity, a culture you don’t understand, those with mental illness, those with handicaps, simply the poor, those of a different sexuality, those with different world views. Whoever it is that you are inclined to judge or look down upon whether out of your own discomfort, ego, pride, or fear, I am talking about them. This isn’t a call to action, though maybe for some of you it is. (Last night, my action was giving away a $2.50 chocolate bar.) This is a call to kindness,  a change of perspective, a humbling, a remembering.

A remembering that our blessings could be taken away at any moment and I do not mean that in a doomsday way, but in a realistic, you-are-not-that-powerful sort of way. So while we have the time…let’s commit to being kinder. Look up. For goodness sake be wise, be safe, but do not allow the mask of safety or wisdom be the excuse that keeps you from knowing…we are all people. We all want to know we matter. We all deeply long for human connection as it is what gives meaning & purpose to our lives.

If nothing else…be damn humble & humane.

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