PLEASE HELP

We’ve all felt it,
a stirring in the heart,
a hardening that happens
with just one quick jerk of the head,
just one look away, as we drive on by
or quickly walk past;
holding on to our purse,
clutching our wallet,
watching out of the sides of our eyes,
the scraggly man with the sign that reads,
HOMELESS AND HUNGRY
PLEASE HELP.


We’ve all felt it,
like a rusty old door with a loose spring,
BAM! The heart slams shut
at the sight of human need
written in black marker
on a dirty piece of cardboard
for all the world to see.


It’s not that we don’t care
about the man with the sign.
Some part of us cares.
It’s the same part of us that cares
that there is a war in the Sudan,
or a shooting on the other side of town,
or that our child’s classmate’s gym shoes
have holes in them. We feel guilty
that we don’t know how to do more.
And so we distance ourselves,
we care from a few steps away.


There may have been a time
when we thought we could be
a small part of changing the world
 for the better. When we felt emotions
like hope, and a stirring toward justice.
But it was a lifetime ago, when our hearts
had fewer callouses;
back when we still thought
we could make a difference,
back when we thought
we knew what love is.


But if I refuse to help that man, is there love in me?


What if  we were to believe the impossible
and do the unthinkable? What if
we believed that God is greater
than our hearts? That reteaching us
what love is, is not a problem for God.
God knows the human heart
because God made the heart
and God became human
to experience the giving and sharing
of hearts with us. What if we were
to leave “tough love” behind
after all these years
and have a love-affair
with the God who knows what love is?
We just might like it enough
that we’ll want to stay with that kind of love
forever.


Can you feel it-
that stirring in the heart,
the strange warming
that seeps in from all sides
at the recognition of love;
at the possibility
that love could be for you after all?
It is the compassionate realization
that when it all comes down to it,
we are all that man
on the side of the road,
with dirty cardboard signs
hanging from our hearts, that read
HOMELESS AND HUNGRY
PLEASE HELP.

Adapted from the sermon, "Tough Love."

invisible friend

She can't see his eyes,
round and muddy blue bubbles
of lake water mounted above a bloated grin.
 

The sky is a shark,
gray and toothy at midday.
 

Laughter splashes throughout the house:
Children imagine their futures;
adults bathe in sunny memories.
 

He bites her when no one is watching. 

The tender pale of childhood reddens under his summer heat.
She covers her heart,
shading it from his burning gaze,

presses her cheek into the earth,
imagining each blade as a whisker
on the soft and innocent face of a kitten.

She is a cat,
playfully jumping through hoops,
unaware that his actions tame her.

"I want to go inside," he says.
She always does what he wants,
so she smiles, saying nothing;
it's silly to speak to an invisible friend.