No Permanent Address
Sunday, January 8
A Lumbering Sort of Way
Willie joined us at the fire for fellowship, today. We were all glad to see Willie.
I recognized Willie coming from a long way off. You see, Willie has a lumbering way about him. When I say lumbering, I picture Willie as this big sawed log meandering aimlessly down a ragging river … bobbing and weaving with no particular place to go, except downstream.
Willie sat by the fire, puffing his smoke as we talked. I asked him where he was laying his head at night. He lifted his hand and pointed, “In them trees over there.”
Willie pointed across the frozen yard to four majestic cottonwood trees. Those trees must be a hundred years old; they are HUGE. They only stand now because they stand on an abandoned section of City street; public property that has missed the developer’s axe up to this point.
Willie continued on, “I sleep there, on the roots of them four trees.”
After a contemplative stare into the fire, Willie added, “I warm up those trees when I sleep on the roots … they told me so.”
A gust of wind whipped flames into our coals. Willie leaned closer. “Something’s happenin’ to those trees. I know. I warm up the roots when I sleep on them and the branches move and tell me that something’s happening to those trees.”
Willie must have an inventive imagination piling up inside his old self. Maybe he doesn’t remember as well as he used to, either. I’ll bet Willie gets so lonely that when he finally does come around for a visit, all of his rememberings come out in a lumbered sort of way … kind of like when he walks into a scene.
Willie must see things in an incredible way, too. But, I could never call Willie crazy because I know that Willie is right: something is happening to those trees.
Those majestic cottonwood trees that warm Willie each night are destined to disappear in a near-future development. The trees must know that and are just telling Willie because if Willie keeps on getting any older, he’s gonna’ go the same as those old trees ... in a lumbering sort of way.
I think about Willie everyday. I hope he's around forever!
Willie joined us at the fire for fellowship, today. We were all glad to see Willie.
I recognized Willie coming from a long way off. You see, Willie has a lumbering way about him. When I say lumbering, I picture Willie as this big sawed log meandering aimlessly down a ragging river … bobbing and weaving with no particular place to go, except downstream.
Willie sat by the fire, puffing his smoke as we talked. I asked him where he was laying his head at night. He lifted his hand and pointed, “In them trees over there.”
Willie pointed across the frozen yard to four majestic cottonwood trees. Those trees must be a hundred years old; they are HUGE. They only stand now because they stand on an abandoned section of City street; public property that has missed the developer’s axe up to this point.
Willie continued on, “I sleep there, on the roots of them four trees.”
After a contemplative stare into the fire, Willie added, “I warm up those trees when I sleep on the roots … they told me so.”
A gust of wind whipped flames into our coals. Willie leaned closer. “Something’s happenin’ to those trees. I know. I warm up the roots when I sleep on them and the branches move and tell me that something’s happening to those trees.”
Willie must have an inventive imagination piling up inside his old self. Maybe he doesn’t remember as well as he used to, either. I’ll bet Willie gets so lonely that when he finally does come around for a visit, all of his rememberings come out in a lumbered sort of way … kind of like when he walks into a scene.
Willie must see things in an incredible way, too. But, I could never call Willie crazy because I know that Willie is right: something is happening to those trees.
Those majestic cottonwood trees that warm Willie each night are destined to disappear in a near-future development. The trees must know that and are just telling Willie because if Willie keeps on getting any older, he’s gonna’ go the same as those old trees ... in a lumbering sort of way.
I think about Willie everyday. I hope he's around forever!
Kelly
¶ 9:00 PM 1 comments
Thursday, January 5
Righteous Prayers
When I wake up in the morning, I think about our homeless friends. I hope they all got a good night’s rest and coffee with their breakfast. I pray they will be blessed as they walk the streets today. I think about our homeless friends a lot.
In Hebrew, God is called ‘The Heart-knower’. Throughout the Bible, He’s the only Reader of Men’s Minds. So, I was thinking … our thoughts are conversations we have with God, ‘heart-to-hearts’ that no one else knows about. As I speed through another day, I think … so, I pray.
Speeding through the internet, I saw a picture that made me think. It was a picture of a homeless man leaning against a broken down shopping cart in an abandoned alley. The cart was full of plastic bags tied together in odd assortments. The man was overly dressed in clothes way too big for what was likely his meager frame. He wore two stocking caps at the same time, and held a crusty plastic jug close to his chest. I don’t know what he had in that jug.
I’ve seen hundreds of shopping carts in a thousand different shapes being pushed by only a handful of same-looking people. I recognized the kind of man in the picture, but there was something odd about that cart: the wheels were way too fat. I’d never seen such fat wheels on a shopping cart.
I was thinking that the man in the picture looked just like our friend, Eugene. In fact, they could be brothers! Eugene has walked the streets on the North Side for as many years as I can remember. He leans against a shopping cart full of odd plastic bags, too. He’s way overly dressed for his small frame, and he wears two stocking caps. But, that shopping cart?
I clicked a link at the bottom of the picture and up pops Bor’duxe de Zillieh or something. The picture was taken in France of a homeless French guy with a French shopping cart that had fat wheels!
I studied the picture of the homeless guy from France for some time. I prayed about Eugene. I wondered if the two men thought about the same things. I imagined that the French guy must think in French so … Yeah, God hears a French man’s prayers; just like He hears Eugene’s prayers or my prayers or anybody’s prayers. And, just like He knows what I’m thinking, He knows your thoughts as well.
As we walk through this life, our experiences will provoke thought. Some of our thoughts, or prayers, will benefit the world around us, some will only hurt.
As we see things, we will think things. And when we think things, we pray. God hears and answers prayers, regardless of what we think.
As we see the poor and less fortunate trying to survive around us, I hope we all have righteous prayers.
Kelly ¶ 9:00 PM 0 comments
