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Some poor people stir within me a deep compassion, a mercy, an immediate desire to reach out and do whatever I can to help them.Other poor people bug me. And then it bugs me that I'm bugged. Do you know what I mean?
A couple of weeks ago, I was walking out of a pet store (where I had gone for my occasional pet fix: every other month I wander through the bird, fish, and small rodent aisles--comparing prices, weighing pros and cons, and silently bemoaning the fact that I can't get a puppy) when a lady approached me to ask for money. She and her daughter were stranded and needed a hotel room for the night. I told her I don't give cash but would love to provide a meal for them.
It's always at this point in the conversation that I feel slightly self-righteous and incredibly discerning. I'm far too wise to contribute to a drug habit (as if "they" all have one), but I'm so full of mercy and love that I'll break the bank to buy "them" a meal.
With my halo sparkling atop my head, I offered to get two chicken sandwiches at the Chick-Fil-A across the street.
Suddenly, she had a husband in need of a chicken sandwich, too. This irked me.
With my halo now tipping precariously to one side, I started to head to the Home of the Original Chicken Sandwich when she added, "Oh, and if you get a meal with drinks, could you make it a Dr. Pepper and a Sprite?"
My halo made a lot of noise hitting the pavement. Are you kidding me, lady? I inwardly fumed as I caked on a good Christian smile. Ain't no way you're getting a drink, and you'll be lucky if I come back with your two (not three!)chicken sandwiches!
I stormed through the drive-through, I paid in a huff, and I drove back to that lady with her undeserved dinner.
And then it hit me. I am no better than this woman. In fact, she and I are very much the same. I too am poor, a beggar, in desperate need of stuff I can't afford. And my Lord does not ride by on a high horse, with fanfare and spiritual airs. He gives freely out of perfect mercy and grace--at great personal expense (His only Son). And while I demand a Dr. Pepper, He waits to give me much more than all I could ask or imagine, that which I need most: Himself. He, the spring of living water, promises that I will never go thirsty.
He doesn't distance Himself from me, never walks away irritated or disgusted, never withholds. He loves and gives, and then loves and gives some more.
Lord, teach me to live in the fullness of Your mercy... and then give away my mercy-filled life (not just chicken sandwiches) to other beggars like me.
