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Saturday, November 22, 2008
We've been studying how to engage the poor at my church. It's the most relevant topic I can think of in a city that has at least two homeless people standing at my Exit on 16/75 everyday, and blanketed bundles in nearly every alleyway downtown.

We've talked a lot the last two weeks about how we don't have to go looking for hurting, poor and broken people. They are surrounding us. Even though we often don't take the time to look under the old blankets, in the garbage bins, or even just behind our neighbor's door.

This week God didn't even give me the chance to look around. He put a homeless, hurting, child in one of my hospital beds for three days. Stephen (name changed to protect the innocent) is a 19 year old, mentally handicapped foster child. He has had no friends visit in three days. He had no one call to check on him. He had a previous foster mother come in once on my shift. He is fighting for his life.

He was brought into the ER with a temperature of 89 degrees, he was covered in staph infections and his platelets and white blood cells were so low that everything pointed towards an autoimmune disease...perhaps HIV or even leukemia. He should have been in the hospital weeks ago. But there was no one to take notice.

Engaging the poor occurs pretty often in my job. And I don't say that to make it sound easy. It just isn't something I have to go looking for much. The hard part for me is believing that there is anyway to make a difference. Believing that anything will change.

I like fixing people. I'm not great at it but I always try. My mom has laughed at me over the years because I tend to have close friends with huge catastrophes in their lives...divorce, cancer, abuse, deaths, eating disorders and so on. I'm not sure how it happens. But God shows Himself to me through their pain. Even if it takes years.

I'm not sure what I'll learn from Stephen though. It makes me angry. Angry that no one wanted him when he was born, angry that he's been thrown into the foster system, angry that even at 19 he was unable to escape the system, angry that he's sick and no one noticed, angry that he's in the ICU and no one cares. And perhaps most angry that if and when he gets out...none of those things will change for him.

Where is the hope in that?

We're singing a song tomorrow at church that contains the hope.
"A Father to the orphan, a Healer to the broken, this is our God.
He brings peace to your madness, and comfort in our sadness.
This is the One we have waited for, this is our God."

I'm not sure I've really engaged the poor this week. But they have engaged me.

3 comments:

Amanda said...

In class this subject comes up every week as to why there is no one to care for a special needs adults who do not have family,they end up on the streets or in jail or in hospitals. We talk about every week how when funding gets cut, mental health and special needs are the first to go. I get sad every time we do because there is no real policy to address it. I hope that Stephen gets a social worker that will advocate for him, and he will get out and gets to live in a home or that he would get to go home to his father. I am glad (if one can be in this case) that he got you as a nurse, I am sure you showed him more love and compassion in the way you treated him than he has seen in a long time. I am happy you could be the arms of Jesus to him.

a.bo said...

http://www.buckheadchurch.org/messages
"confessions of a fixer". third one.

it was good for me...i need to check it out again...

Justin Scott said...

Whenever I read this blog my problems seem smaller.