I have a hard time with smelly people. There, I said it. And I have a hard time with explosive people. I said that too. So when someone is smelly and explosive, well, right there is the Lisa Samson Failure Combo, complete with biggie fries and a pull-toy. I don't read the angry blogs. Angry ranter bloggers annoy me. For all I know, they're smelly too.
When I see myself as Jesus, or as Shane Claiborne of The Simple Way says, "the hands and feet of Jesus", I can sort of work my way around the smelly angry people. After all, I have other matters to take care of, other people to care for, other issues to care about.
But when I see Jesus in the eyes of the angry, smelly people, that's where I get into trouble. There's no way around it. This guy is Jesus and not only am I gagging and annoyed, I'm a little frightened.
A man who inhabits our community is presently homeless. He is smelly and he is angry. He is also mentally ill and unable to live with others. Mostly because he gets so pissed off so quickly he leaves in a huff the size of a my own inability to reach out.
Recently, he was kicked out of a ministry home, and he ended up storing his items under our porch. He shows up at odd hours to retrieve a towel and ask, for the thousandth time if we have a backpack or a coat. It's cold out here, he says, as we stand on the porch, sweating profusely in the 90-some degree weather. We've pared down. We don't have extra coats.
Jesus would give him a coat. Jesus would give him a backpack. Or at least run to Goodwill and find them. Maybe that's what I'll do. But the problem is that this man expects to get anything he asks for, and if we don't deliver, he gets angry. I think he has the "I can dish it out but can't take it" disorder to boot.
The kids are afraid of him and so we don't let him into the house. We decided that forknown risks are left outside the front door.
This is hard for me. I want to reach out. But I'm a little scared, and this man, in truth, makes me so mad at times I just want to scream in his face, "Just get out of here! I don't want you around! You scare my kids and you're a big meanie!" And so I fail everyday with him. Jesus walks up and I send Will out to deal with him. He's much better at dealing with smelly, angry people than I am. I admire this about my husband.
Maybe I'll get to the Goodwill tomorrow. But even as I think this, my flesh asks, "A coat and a backpack today, what's next? What will he want tomorrow?"
And of course, Jesus's teachings ring out like the resounding gong. "If someone asks for your coat, give it to him. If someone asks you to walk with him a mile, walk with him two." That Jesus. He has such high ideals.
So I sit and wait for this man to show up again. Hopefully I'll have what he needs next time. I don't think it'll ever be enough. But then, that's not my call to make. He's a test. I know it. Darn it, but why does Jesus have to show up in this form? He can be so annoying, Jesus can.
pax,
lisa
Your humor-infused, convicting honesty can be so annoying. ;)
Even though I know you're truly frustrated, I love this piece. Thanks for opening your soul and spilling it out with words that make me laugh, then ask forgiveness.
May you have all the tools you need to pass this test.
Love, Jeanne
Posted by: Jeanne Damoff | July 24, 2006 at 11:12 PM
This brought out a bunch of thoughts in me. The first is an experience I had once with an angry lady. God seemed to be speaking to me about sharing some of my journey out of brokeness (okay so I'm still broken, but not as much :o)) with hurting women.
I was excited about the passion He was placing on my heart. At a retreat, I met a dear, sweet lady so full of pain. I shared my heart with her and it blessed her and I felt so happy. Right after that, I had a conflict with another woman who was an angry type.
So, I'm sitting on the toilet at this retreat (what a place for God to speak to me) and God says, "You think you want to minsiter to broken women, they come in both packages, sweet, needy, and broken, and tough, hard, angry, and broken. I love both kinds."
I still often struggle to love the hard, angry ones. They scare me and hurt me and make me mad. But God isn't intimidated, wounded, or angry with them. He is love.
The other thing this reminded me of is when I was a kid. My dad pastored this old church in the middle of the slums of Witchita. We lived in the basement. We often had people bed at our door. We made them sandwiches or tried to help with what they asked for, but learned not to give them cash, which disappeared into alcohol instead of groceries. I was very young and just wanted to love them back then. I'm glad my parents fed them and tried to show them Jesus.
My life is maybe too isolated from all that now. A friend of mine works for a homeless ministry and I've felt a tug on my heart to see how we might get involved. You could pray for me in this. I already feel stretched too far, but I want to have Jesus' priorities.
Posted by: Paula | July 25, 2006 at 02:33 PM
I meant to say beg, not bed at our door . . .
Posted by: Paula | July 25, 2006 at 02:35 PM
I feel ya....I have been thinking about this alot lately. I have had a couple of BAD run-ins with some homeless people in the last couple of months. I struggle, with wanting to help and knowing when to step away and keep myself and my family safe. I commented on another blog lately about how important it is for us to act, BUT there is a place for private organizations and the government. Hopefully, they are better equipped for some people/situations than I am. I don't say all this to say that I have no responsibility, I do, I'm still trying to figure out what I need to be doing. Any advice, will be well received.
As a Christian and as a fairly (I hope) decent person, I want to help....but man there are days I want to scream in a homeless persons face (well at a good distance) to "Leave me alone.", "Stop scaring my kid!" and "GO AWAY!". Then there are days, that I feel so sad and want to help so much and have no idea what to do. For example:
One day Bill and I were out and an old homeless man, begging on the street, peed right in his pants. I just wanted to cry. I had no money and was no where near home to give this man clothing, plus I was trying to figure out a way so as to not embarass him but still help him. I still hate the thought of it and am sad that I didn't do anything....I still can't figure out what I could have done either. I remember thinking that I need to leave clothes in the car for now on, in case of a situation like this.
hmmmph (big sigh)
So love, you are not alone!
Posted by: Valerie | July 25, 2006 at 03:39 PM
Whoa....sorry for thr LOOOOOONG comment.
Posted by: Valerie | July 25, 2006 at 03:40 PM
You listen.
You send out your husband, and don't ignore him.
You give him a safe place to store his things when there are few safe places left.
Seems like you're doing a lot.
Posted by: wilsonian | July 26, 2006 at 09:48 PM
Hi friend, I love your heart.
Having had experience with the mentally ill combined with the feeling of entitlement and a short fuse I urge you not to provide him with anything and suggest he store his belongings else where.
Ministering in shelters or on the street to the homeless and/or mentally ill is one thing. I realize the face of our savior takes many forms, however I do not believe our Jesus comes to our front door demanding things and scaring our children.
The long and short of it is, while the Samson ministry includes the whole family; Ty, Jake and Gwyen should not be scared to go outside and play in their own yard.
If you give him the backpack and coat, he will be back asking for more. And he will get mad if you do not provide.
I love you friend, consider carefully if you and Will want to allow an unmedicated mentally ill person being a daily visitor to your front steps, your responsible for alot of people in that great old house.
XXOO,
leigh
Posted by: Leigh | July 26, 2006 at 09:52 PM
Hi friend, I love your heart.
Having had experience with the mentally ill combined with the feeling of entitlement and a short fuse I urge you not to provide him with anything and suggest he store his belongings else where.
Ministering in shelters or on the street to the homeless and/or mentally ill is one thing. I realize the face of our savior takes many forms, however I do not believe our Jesus comes to our front door demanding things and scaring our children.
The long and short of it is, while the Samson ministry includes the whole family; Ty, Jake and Gwyen should not be scared to go outside and play in their own yard.
If you give him the backpack and coat, he will be back asking for more. And he will get mad if you do not provide.
I love you friend, consider carefully if you and Will want to allow an unmedicated mentally ill person being a daily visitor to your front steps, your responsible for alot of people in that great old house.
XXOO,
leigh
Posted by: Leigh | July 26, 2006 at 09:53 PM