vitalwholeness

Great start! I look forward to seeing more post.
John

i love this blog, Tim. I decided to take a look today, after reading your Wed Wonders (excellent!) and after reading one, just kept going. Thanks for all the head/heart food. kk

The phone’s ringtone instantly identified the caller as his son and the sound catapulted the man from his bed. It was 4 a.m. Had his son been mugged – again? Had he been in an automobile accident?

“Son, are you OK?” he cried anxiously. The grieving voice came back. “It’s a homeless man, Dad. His name is Jersey. He is mentally challenged, ill, dressed only in pajamas and is going to freeze to death in this 30 degree weather!

“I found him at the backdoor of my building when I came home tonight,” he continued. “I gave him my coat and we walked to the 7/11 to get him some food. I’ve called and called, but I can’t get him any help!”

“But – but,” the father stammered. “What do you want me to do?”

There was a long pause, then, “Just pray I guess,” came the response. “I called the hypothermia patrol four hours ago and I’ve called several times since. All they say is that they’re on the way. I tried calling 9-1-1. They said to call the police. Just about then an officer drove up here to get some coffee, but when I pleaded for help he just shrugged and said there was nothing he could do and got in his car and drove off.”

“He’s in awful shape, Dad. His teeth are all rotten; his lips are so chapped they are bleeding and his hands are even worse. He drools and the only words he can say are ‘help me, help me’ and so he can’t advocate for himself.” Indeed, the father had heard Jersey moaning in the background, “help me, help me.”

“I can’t leave him,” the son said, “because the store employees will kick him out if I’m not with him.”

“I’ll pray for Jersey, Son, I promise. And so will your Mom.” With that the father went back to bed tossing and turning with the frustration he shared with the son. An hour or so later, he rose phone in hand and called the son. “How are you doing?” he asked. “I’m home,” was the broken-hearted reply. “I finally gave up. The sun was coming up with the promise of a little more warmth. I got him some food and Gatorade. I gave him the $20 I had on me and then had to let him go.”
The son’s voice choked, then continued, “I feel so badly that I couldn’t do more. I was afraid to bring him up to my apartment and try as I might I couldn’t find anyone who could help Jersey.” Both father and son were silent for a moment, then, with a note of finality, the son said, “I am so angry with my city and I am so angry with this society.”

Father and son cried together.

This morning’s lectionary reading is from Jeremiah 5:25-31.

“For wicked men are found among my people; …their houses are full
of treachery; therefore they have become great and rich; they have grown
fat and sleek; they know no bounds in wickedness; they judge not with justice
the cause of the fatherless;…and they do not defend the rights of the needy;
my people love to have it so, but what will you do in the end.”

Pray for Jersey.

Tim,
Just happened on to this. Just what I would expect from you. Great idea. Refreshing words of faith.