new resolve

Working in downtown Portland has its pros and cons. Many aspects of downtown I like—Powell's for instance—but sometimes working downtown is hard. And in this post I'm not talking about the commute, the mundane-ness of my job, or even the pervasive cigarette smoke I smell outside. Sometimes working downtown is hard emotionally, even spiritually. Here's why:

{Portland is home to one of the largest homeless populations in the country.}

I see homeless men and women every single day I go to work. I used to ignore them and look the other way, because they made me uncomfortable. In general conference last month, I heard many talks about our duty to help the poor and needy. Then I realized I couldn't keep pretending they didn't exist. Because they do. And maybe it's a good thing they make me uncomfortable. Maybe I need that.

I saw a person last week huddled on the sidewalk as I walked to work in the morning. He (or she—I couldn't see a face) was wrapped tightly in a grubby sleeping bag, with feet in dirty socks peeking out the end. His shoes sat next to his head. That image burned itself in my mind, and my heart suddenly felt raw.

I used to rationalize giving cash to those who begged on the streets, thinking excuses like "They're just going to spend it on drugs and alcohol." And you know, maybe that would happen. Then again who am I to judge another's heart? I know that I am a child of God, and I feel so blessed to really know that. Most of the homeless here probably don't know who they are. But here's the thing: I know who they are. Our Father in Heaven cares just as much for that man sleeping on the sidewalk as He does for me. That is reason enough to care and to give.

I can't change the world, or even Portland. Whether through a smile, a greeting, or a few dollars tucked inside those worn shoes, I might be able to change someone's day or hour or moment. I might be able to help someone know that someone else cares. I know that God cares, that Christ cares. And if for no other reason, that's why I should care.

I don't know these people or what their lives are really like. But Christ does. Christ wasn't discriminatory in his love or service, and I shouldn't be either. Going forward I resolve to be a little more kind, a little more accepting, a little more aware, a little more compassionate.