You don't have to read this

I am giving you fair warning: YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ THIS... but if you do, know that you can't unread it. Today was real... yet again. It was painful, and I saw things that I didn't want to see. I actually turned away from it, but after talking to a good friend back in Minnesota he helped me to understand what I did and what I am doing. He was actually the one who told me I needed to write about this because people need to know. People need to know the reality of the country in which they live in.

This morning was kind of rough for me. I was in desperate need of some time with God, but like usual I just didn't have the time that I needed or maybe that I wasn't willing to make. I knew God was trying to reach deep within me, but I wasn't quite ready for it. Off to church I went knowing that it would find me there, and there it did find me. (I don't even want to keep writing because my heart aches terribly just thinking about it.) As our car drove up to St. Al's in downtown Detroit, I turned to see a white bare bum and thighs of a woman between two cars urinating. She must of been in her late 50's maybe early 60's. She was barely squatting, but it was quite evident that she was easing herself. I turned away quickly half chuckling that we were trying to get into this small parking space and that I had just seen this woman going to the bathroom in street wondering but not dare asking if the guy next to me saw it too. "Only in Detroit," I said to myself trying to brush it off.

When we got out of the car, our Detroit friend, E, walked over to see if the woman was ok now that she was back in her little cubby while the other guy was just kind of standing to see what the situation was. I waited for a second and then just went inside. I couldn't deal with it. I just needed some time to pray. Homeless people are outside the church all the time in this cubby. After putting down my stuff, I went straight to the front of the church to pray near the tabernacle. Tears started streaming down as I prayed. I just didn't want to deal with that pain and suffering of the city at that moment, yet it was hitting me all at once. I just felt the Lord's grief as I grieved over this woman and so many like her. I cried out to God apologizing for my own inadequacy, yet acknowledging Him as Lord over all.

After gathering myself together, I sat next to E and asked her about the woman. E told me that she had no shoes. She had no shoes on. She had no shoes. It was 7 degrees outside last night. It is snowy and slushy. Her socks must have been sopping. It must have been so cold and painful standing on that marble without any shoes. E invited her inside, but the woman said that she needed some air. E said that she understood. E said that her shoes were too small, but I knew mine weren't. I thought about going out to be with the woman, but I knew that I needed to be at Mass. I just prayed for her and kept offering her up. In my brokenness sorrow, I was able to connect deeply to the Mass finding a great peace and comfort. I realized that it wouldn't be much help to give her my shoes because she needed new socks. I decided that after Mass I would go out to talk to her, drive home, and bring back a pair of boots and thick socks. When I headed out after Mass, I saw two cop cars, an ambulance, and a Franciscan Friar. I knew that she was in good hands, and the brother would make sure she was taken care of. God is good and He finds ways to care for all of His children.

There are so many situations in Detroit that take me aback and cause me to wonder which country I am in... Sierra Leone or America? The poorest country in the world or the richest country in the world? Can you imagine getting to the point in which you just pee in the street? Or walking with no shoes? And how many shoes do I have in my closet? Or in your closet? Since coming to Detroit, I have been reading a lot of the Book of Isaiah. The prophets often cry out about the injustice of our world and of God's people. In Isaiah 58 it says, "This, rather, is the fasting I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke..." Lord, I cry "INJUSTICE!" A woman was walking in the cold and snow with no shoes. She was urinating in the streets. Where is her dignity? Her dignity is in being a daughter of God, but does she even know this? Let us be the voice that cries "INJUSTICE" in our world and be the hands and feet in which the Lord uses to bind the brokenhearted and love the unlovables. I might have been wrong today not going over there to help her, but I am in need of a Savior not a savior myself. I have come to realize that I need to be filled with the Lord, and unless it is His strength and love, I am useless. May I have the humility and strength to keep crawling back to the Lord so that He may love me in order that I may love others sharing the love of Christ.