Joshua 24:15 NKJV 15 …” as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
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Many years ago, I boarded a bus and travelled a number of states away to visit my mother, who had terminal cancer.
It was a bittersweet visit in the midst of a battle that would lead to her death.
Then, all too soon, our few days together ended, and it was time to leave.
I caught a ride to the bus terminal to await the bus that would return me back to my home state.
I was in my late fifties. My six children were all adults and lived around me. Two years prior, I had been asked by one of my sons to be a “live-in nanny” grandma for his little ones.
While looking forward to the return to my son’s home, my heart was still heavy.
I sat outside the terminal on this warm evening, hoping to doze on the bus, during the many hour ride ahead.
However, the bus was delayed by a lengthy wait. Inside the terminal, were only a few men talking and laughing, so I stayed outside with the mosquitoes. I glanced around to see that someone, a woman, had set up a tent of sorts and was living outside of the terminal. Apparently, she was known and was as accepted, as much as such an arrangement could hope.
It looked to be a long wait.
I intermingled prayer with thoughts of my mother’s health. Time passed.
I looked at the woman sitting outside her tent reading.
I thought how I also had no home of my own. Had, literally, everything I owned crammed into a duffle bag of one of my children, and was heading back to the home of a son.
I looked over at the homeless woman again, wondering what made me any different from her.
“Likely, it is my education,” I thought. Though, I didn’t have an impressive one, really, so that wasn’t it.
“Opportunities,” I thought, then dismissed that as an option.
I had very, very few dollars to my name.
What WAS the difference?
I walked out to her.
She looked up and smiled. “Waiting for the bus, eh?”
“Yes. It is to be quite delayed. I didn’t want to be the only woman sitting inside. Do you mind the company?”
She didn’t. She had me join her at her encampment.
Over time, I learned she was a widow, had once taught a Sunday school class as I did, and that we both loved the Lord.
Life had hit her very hard when her husband died. She reassured, however, that she was fine. Got showers at a nearby campground place and had enough money to get by.
We talked about God caring for us.
We talked about praying for each other.
The bus finally pulled up and we said hasty goodbyes and left each other lives.
I never saw her again.
I got on the bus with my son’s duffle bag holding all of my earthly possessions and headed to my life and obligations.
Sitting in the darkness of the bus, and pulling away, I thought of my brief encounter.
“What makes us different?” I asked God about my homeless friend and myself.
His voice came sure and certain to my heart.
“NOTHING!”
In a deeper way, that evening, I put my life into God’s Hands for more service.
In that moment, my work with the homeless had begun.