But For the Grace of God

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Making our way into the city feeling excitement in the air.  Traffic multiplying.  Windshield wipers making a beat of their own removing each new splat of water.  Navigating round & round, higher & higher squeezing through each narrow pathway finding space for our chariot mentally noting our numbered location & walking route.  Winding down eight flights of stairs.  Thankful with every step that I wasn’t alone.  Arriving on the ground floor  pushing through the door out into the rain.  People in droves making their way toward the stadium.  The energy is more vibrant now.  The pace, fast.  Rain chilling on my exposed hands.  Dodging puddles.  Bridge ahead.  Shelter from rain.  A homeless person.  Another.  Another.  A woman.  More.  Lined up backs against cold hard brick.  Card board prayers asking for help.  Sadness.  Resignation.  Praying as we walked.  Attention being diverted.  Following well dressed men heckling the homeless.  Unkindness.  Unloving.  Accusing.  Subject of prayer changing.    Saddening.  Breaking heart.  Angry.  Feeling more sorry for
them than the homeless.  
Entering stadium.  Patting down.  Checking ticket.  Free towel.  Crowds.  Swarms.  Shoulder to shoulder.  Where’s my Chris?  Don’t leave me.  Climbing to seats.  Excitement.  Energy.  Two colors visible everywhere.  The home team.  The visiting team.  Noise.  Cheering.  Chaos.  Defeated.  
Making the way out.  Winding down.  Passing slower people.  Back into the rain.  Jumping bigger puddles.  Masses of people heading down Capitol Avenue toward the bridge.  Music.  Loud music.  Not from celebrating a victory.  From the homeless.  Hoping.  Begging.  Needing.  A beautiful church.  Cardboard.  Wait, someone’s under that cardboard on the steps of the church.  In the rain.  Masses of people passing by.  Oh Lord, whoever he is (you know who he is) be with him.  May he find you.  Music fading.  Homeless but a memory.  Etched now into my heart.  I’ve been there you know.  Sort of.  Not on the street.  In a shelter.  I don’t recall for how long.  A few weeks, maybe.  I remember two shelters.  Vividly.  My family & I.  It was during high school.  I’ve put my time in a soup kitchen to earn my keep.  I’m actually thankful for that time.  Now.  Whenever I see a homeless person, I always pray for them & I always say….”there, but for the grace of God, go I.”

Author: Michelle

I'm Michelle. A Child of the King. A dreamer. My first love, Jesus, is who I want to reflect in my life more than anything. I'm also a determined artist on a quest to learn as much as I can about graphic design, hand lettering & all things creative. It's here where my love for Jesus & all things creative come together in only a way that God can orchestrate.

3 thoughts on “But For the Grace of God”

  1. Thanks for letting me walk in your footsteps. Reminds me to not just look…but to see.
    Grace is everywhere…in constant supply: He is reaching out through you as you intercede with His heart! Blessings !


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