All day long she sat alone.
Waiting for me to figure something out, fourth, fifth, maybe the sixth day the same.
Something or some things happened to change her, cause her to hear noises not there, to believe harm was always beating hard against her windows.
My friend asked yesterday why I thought God had given me this assignment. I don’t believe I answered.
I don’t know.
In the beginning, I thought God had sent my mama, this woman who calls me “lady” had a similar helpless tone.
Like my mama did when she was very sick and very sad. I thought maybe here’s your chance again, save this situation, make right the failure of the one before. She’s so difficult to deal with but she’s human. She’s a soul.
But, no, there’s some other reason, I believe, I don’t know.
She continues to come back, waiting every morning at our door.
Countless calls for collaboration, asking family to take her in, to others to put our heads together, just suggestions or ideas.
No solution so far.
Other than hotel rooms for a couple of nights to know she’s not outside, not curled up on someone’s porch, or walking in the night, just walking.
She told me people see her. She’s afraid she’ll be arrested. Some drivers slow down to speak, ask if she’s okay and others look away.
She’s a pleasant sight, really. I smile when I see her resolve, I find it meaningful that she wears her earrings.
I’ve yet to see her without her gold “hoops” in, complementing her high cheeks.
She’s a mystery, how her condition came to be, the way she served others before, the way she engaged in community.
Before she got so afraid.
Today, she told me I won’t see her, said she could handle herself today. We paid for her one night of sleep and I gave her cash for some minutes on her phone and bought her a double when she said she’d take a single, no fries, a baked potato instead.
She’d asked the lady checking her in for a safe room, the lady said they’re all safe here and asked her not to complain about the noises again.
I listened, piecing more of her mystery together.
I’ll call others today, I’m praying for a resolution or at least someone to pay for another night in the hotel.
I woke in my warm bed, the chill of the room against my face and I prayed “Thanks, God”.
I slept so very well.
I turned to kneel beside my bed.
Again, “Thanks, God.”
For assignments, for opportunities
For interruptions and issues like homelessness, like suicide, like budgets that never have enough to cover and ideas I can’t get back when I want to so I consider throwing in the towel.
You order my days.
You, God, not me.
Enlighten me, Lord.
Show me your glory. Cause me to stick with something as long as you find it necessary to bring you glory while being humbled by the assignment.
Help not to despise your assignments.
Help me to see you in them, just like the day so very long ago when I was chastised by a boy who happened to be my son. I questioned the validity of someone’s need, and the boy spoke up to say…
“What if he’s Jesus?”
“”With the merciful you show yourself merciful; with the blameless man you show yourself blameless; with the purified you deal purely, and with the crooked you make yourself seem tortuous. You save a humble people, but your eyes are on the haughty to bring them down. For you are my lamp, O Lord, and my God lightens my darkness.”
2 Samuel 22:26-29 ESV
Show me the way, Lord.
Show me the way.