"Joy"ning the Rank of Failures

For forty days I'm deliberately choosing to find joy. To start from the beginning, click here 

Day 27

Last night I got to go to downtown Chicago and have dinner with a friend's family. We had a wonderful conversations over dinner and then finished up some shopping they needed to do on the Magnificent Mile.

As they were walking me back to the train station we passed several people sleeping on the street. Our conversation briefly turned to the topic of those who were homeless, but we didn't stick to it long.

Then God decided to smash that topic back into our faces. We had just turned onto Washington  St to make the last mile to the station when a woman approached us. She was apologetic from the start saying she was only approaching us because we had a man with us (being 3 women with a man probably looks like a good group to beg from. More sympathy from the women, but they aren't afraid to stop because they have their "protector" with them). She also kept telling us she wasn't a bum and how someone had already called her a nigger. Her story continued - her house had been repossessed and all she needed was money for the Metra for herself and her sons to get to a shelter for the night. 

We stood there in indecesion as she kept apologizing and repeating that she wasn't a bum. She began to tear up and say how embarrassed she was to have to ask for this, but she really needed it. My friend's dad pulled out $10 and handed it to the woman and she quickly preceeded to ask for more, the metra would could $15. He apologized and began to walk away. I quickly set down the full sack of leftovers from dinner I was carrying and reached into my wallet for the $5 bill I'd received after paying my fare for the train. 

I felt a stab right behind my heart as I looked at this person and I heard, "Pray with her." I handed the money to her, looking her in the eyes in the hopes that she understood that I saw her not as a bum, or a nigger, but as a child of Godand she thanked me. I heard it again, "Pray with her." I shoved my wallet back in my purse and picked up my leftovers and we both turned away.

My friend's mom said how sweet that was of me. I thought it was nothing as, I confess, I'd forgotten to write my tithe check on Sunday. I also only have cash in my wallet because God gave it to me first.  I told her about a block later how I had felt the Spirit leading me to pray with that woman, and how I regret it already.

After saying goodbye, I boarded the train and proceeded to ask God, where is the joy in this? I failed. I heard your Spirit so clearly and I simply disobeyed. Any jo-shmo good samaritan can hand a woman $5... how did I care for her as a child of God. I mulled this over the entire hour and half it took me to get home.

And then I realized as I crawled into bed. I am just like all the other failures you decided to use. Like Abraham, Gideon, Moses, Paul, Peter and so many more. They were not perfect, God used their weaknesses... and so I prayed - 

"Lord how I feel like a failure as your hands and feet. God do not let that woman live in embarrassment, fear or despair. Lord give her hope. Send her someone who has the courage to speak your love directly into her life.
Lord, I'm joyful only because I know you are growing your Spirit inside of me. Continue to tug at my heart so that the next time I meet one of your children in need (whether street beggar or king) I may boldly proclaim your love in joy & courage. May that interaction be glorifying to you alone God.
Amen"

So how is God using your failures to spread His love?