“How was your day?”
(audio version)
Matthew 6:25 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
Tall, lean, and clean-shaven, Richard was always one of the first Shelter Week guests to arrive for breakfast in Fellowship Hall.
On the first morning of Shelter Week, I approached him as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I heard some of the ladies were a bit chilly last night. Were you warm enough? Did you sleep OK?” I asked him.
“I slept like a baby,” he said, drawing out his words slowly.
“Now, would that be a baby who woke up and cried all night long or a baby who slept through the night?” I asked him.
He paused just long enough to take my measure. “Oh, that’s a good one,” he laughed back at me. “I slept like a quiet, happy baby.”
Every morning after that, we had the same routine. “How did you sleep last night?” I would ask. “Like a happy baby,” he would say, a big smile lighting his face.
Most days, I also saw him at dinner, and we’d chat about the weather, about the food, about how he’d spent his day. He told me he’d made a lot of mistakes in his life, but that he was right with the Lord now, and things were looking up. His 90 days with the rotating shelter would expire on the day he left our church, and he didn’t yet know where he’d be sleeping after that. But he was optimistic that things would turn out OK for him.
On Thursday night, as I was tidying up the activity area in Fellowship Hall, he spotted me and walked over to say hello. “I was just wondering,” he said. “How was your day today? It looks like you’re doing a lot of work here. You’re here in the morning; you’re here at night. You must be getting pretty tired by now.”
Here was a man with no steady income, no home, no idea where he’d be sleeping in the next week, asking politely about my day and wondering if I was tired. I am rarely without words, but I could only stammer out a reply to Richard.
There were lessons aplenty in Shelter Week, but the greatest was surely about the grace, dignity, humor, and kindness of so many of the guests we served. What lingers after Shelter Week is admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. How do men and women who have seemingly lost everything continue to rise up every morning and go forward? How do they manage to believe that God loves them when they struggle so much in this life? How does someone who has so little manage to care at all about me and whether I’m the one who’s tired and has had a good day? I can only hope that I have half the strength and belief of Richard and the others guests I served during Shelter Week.
Prayer: Lord, help me to stop worrying about what tomorrow will bring and to trust that you will care for me in all ways. Help me to trust that your plan for me is enough.
Joan Richardson
(audio version)
Matthew 6:25 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
Tall, lean, and clean-shaven, Richard was always one of the first Shelter Week guests to arrive for breakfast in Fellowship Hall.
On the first morning of Shelter Week, I approached him as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “I heard some of the ladies were a bit chilly last night. Were you warm enough? Did you sleep OK?” I asked him.
“I slept like a baby,” he said, drawing out his words slowly.
“Now, would that be a baby who woke up and cried all night long or a baby who slept through the night?” I asked him.
He paused just long enough to take my measure. “Oh, that’s a good one,” he laughed back at me. “I slept like a quiet, happy baby.”
Every morning after that, we had the same routine. “How did you sleep last night?” I would ask. “Like a happy baby,” he would say, a big smile lighting his face.
Most days, I also saw him at dinner, and we’d chat about the weather, about the food, about how he’d spent his day. He told me he’d made a lot of mistakes in his life, but that he was right with the Lord now, and things were looking up. His 90 days with the rotating shelter would expire on the day he left our church, and he didn’t yet know where he’d be sleeping after that. But he was optimistic that things would turn out OK for him.
On Thursday night, as I was tidying up the activity area in Fellowship Hall, he spotted me and walked over to say hello. “I was just wondering,” he said. “How was your day today? It looks like you’re doing a lot of work here. You’re here in the morning; you’re here at night. You must be getting pretty tired by now.”
Here was a man with no steady income, no home, no idea where he’d be sleeping in the next week, asking politely about my day and wondering if I was tired. I am rarely without words, but I could only stammer out a reply to Richard.
There were lessons aplenty in Shelter Week, but the greatest was surely about the grace, dignity, humor, and kindness of so many of the guests we served. What lingers after Shelter Week is admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. How do men and women who have seemingly lost everything continue to rise up every morning and go forward? How do they manage to believe that God loves them when they struggle so much in this life? How does someone who has so little manage to care at all about me and whether I’m the one who’s tired and has had a good day? I can only hope that I have half the strength and belief of Richard and the others guests I served during Shelter Week.
Prayer: Lord, help me to stop worrying about what tomorrow will bring and to trust that you will care for me in all ways. Help me to trust that your plan for me is enough.
Joan Richardson
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