A week ago I went to a friend’s birthday party, all Christians.. An hour or so past midnight, in Chinatown, we were ready to go home. As we stood on the street corner, discussing rides and wrapping up conversations a homeless man came near and asked “Spare change?” We kept talking, ignoring him. None of us acknowledged his existence even once. It was awkward, he kept repeating “Spare change?” as we continued to talk, and continued to ignore him. In the lull between thoughts, I desperately tried to fill the awkward silence so we wouldn’t have to face the homeless man. We looked away from him down the street where we waited for friends to drive their cars over.
All I could think of at the time was this is not God’s love.
I keep strange hours. In my defense, I just dropped my parents off at the airport. So now it’s two weeks of…. whatever the heck I want. My own dishes, my own dinner, my own laundry… oh, and we still hafta plan Europe ’09…..