hopelessness at my door

I'm sitting in my "other office" this morning (an "It's a Grind" coffee shop), glad to be back in the land of normalcy (for me, at least). I'm thinking warm thoughts about my time in Kenya as I sip my favorite vanilla bean coffee (standard fare for me), but there is little time or place for too much contemplation. That's because the needs and cries of those around me here are loud and pressing.

I ventured back to the office yesterday, ready to face a mountain of mail, phone messages and emails that I knew accumulated during my time away. It wasn't long before there was someone at the church doors needing help. Then another. And another. The bulk of my day was spent listening, intervening, suggesting and hurting for those in the throes of life's miseries. Some issues were of their own making. In some, they were victims. In most, there was a murky mingling of the two, with long-term chain reactions initiated by poor choices. At times my heart ached, at times it pleaded. Sometimes it simply burned, either because of destructive actions on their part, or because of the response of those with whom these men had come into contact.

One young (mid-thirties) man's life and words particularly haunted me. In trouble since he was ten, this man had spent the last 14 years in prison, had absolutely nothing, and was on the streets wanting and needing to get off drugs and alcohol. He was extremely angry (a violent past) and bitter. He felt burned by everyone and helped by no one. He was so hollow that he told me he knew his life had absolutely no value whatsoever. Therefore, if people stopped to help him, he pushed them away, assuming they were doing it for their own gratification or self-serving. He knew they couldn't really care about him, since he believed he wasn't worth caring for.

It's hard to convince someone that God cares when that person has been so beaten down, so devalued, so tossed around like an old dishrag that he finds no reason to be loved. We talked about God, but my new friend keeps Him at arm's length as well. Doesn't much trust Him, although he says he believes in Him. I hope we talk more in the days and weeks ahead. I pray he finds the help he needs. And I hope he learns that there really are people- genuine people- who'll love him for who he is in God's eyes. Not because they'll feel better about themselves, but because he really does have value. To them.

But more importantly, to God.