I started this during the last days in San Francisco, now over six months ago. I was pondering so much, grateful and grieving. So glad for the experiences and the people and the beauty. Mourning the impending distance between those things and me. And the unexplored things, the things I neglected to investigate. And actually, satisfied with how I did a few things.

So as a reminder to myself and to you, dear reader, here’s what I think we should do, right where we are, every day.

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Soak up the time with your loves. You will never leave a place and think, I spent too much time with my dearest friends.

Be proactive about exploring. Take it all in. You are unlikely to leave and think, I learned too much about my city and participated too much in my local community.

Pray for your city.

Make memories in your home. Use it for so many good things.

Dig in, settle in. You might have a plan for how long you’ll be here, but you really have no idea. Why not make it home? Live in this present place and learn to love it. That is how to be a good steward.

For now, this is your place – what will you do before you leave?

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I gave a sandwich to a homeless woman tonight and it didn’t matter.

She had homelessness in her eyes and while a sandwich maybe startled her melancholy, it didn’t change those eyes and what they know to be true. They were so deep, wells of resignation and anguish. And how do I singlehandedly pull her out? And how do I descend with her?

But I just gave her a sandwich and her name is Ernestine.

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I care so much about Home, yet I think so rarely about those who have no such reality. They are even starkly labeled by that thing they lack. It becomes entirely who they are to everyone else, and maybe to themselves. How little this does justice to who they are – how one dimensional and shallow a name, yet how profound and hopeless still.

It says too much and too little.

There is work to be done in this realm that overwhelms me with its vastness. This realm of homelessness, like a knot with all its complications and links that are hard to trace, like a knot with strings that unravel and break before you can solve it. There is work here, and yet – peace, friends. For though we are to meet the needs of the needy, yet Jesus first met the deepest need and became, Himself, their Home. Our Home.

He offered Himself as our shelter and protection from the wrath that sin necessitates. No matter where you live, we’re all on equal footing there; no one shelters themselves, but grace is given.

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Oh what anguish abounds, Ernestine, what discomfort to endure when you have no home, no place to rest your head and your bones. No place for renewal and feasting, for gathering and for knitting together. To thrive without this is impossible.

But. Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.¹ There is one who came to settle the knot, to settle the debt. He endured the very same as you, as me. And we rejected Him, we contested Him. And then He loved us still and gave us Himself for our renewal, for our fullness. And I don’t know how to pull anyone out of any well, but Jesus can do what a sandwich could never. He can fill to the brim and then some, and He can rescue in such a permanent way.

First, my soul, recall that you too were without a home, and then Jesus fed you and He keeps you still.

Remember, and do ye likewise.²

He regards the prayer of the destitute
    and does not despise their prayer.³

1 … Luke 9:58

2 … Matthew 25:35

3 … Psalm 102:17

to the people I saw on the way to and from the gym …

… I see you, students with smiles and grown-up demeanor, making plans and spending quality time with friends. You’re attractive and young, and you have so much going for you, in the eyes of the world. You have no idea how blessed you are. And you are loved.

… I see you, man with no home and one set of dirty clothes. You’ve been here such a long time, and probably people avoid you, avoid looking at you. You might be terribly lonely, and lost. You might be a wonderful guy with deep love in your heart. You might be hurting and hungry. But you are loved.

… I see you, girl with quick pace and high-end shopping bag, chatting away on the phone. You have a life full of things and people. You have places to go and a certain reputation. You seem confident and intent, and you might be. Or you might be wandering and just trying to keep going. Either way, you are loved.

… I see you, man clutching your cigarette like a permanent accessory. I can’t stay near you long for want of air, but you maybe haven’t thought of that sort of thing. You might be a successful person, a great friend. You might be such a hard worker, or someone struggling with your life circumstances. You should stop smoking, but regardless, you are loved. No doubts about it.

… I see you, everyday-diligent woman. You’re trying to make it. You look a little tired but like you have a sense of who you are. Your face is beautiful, even though you might not think so. You seem an earnest person. You are so loved.

… I see you, gentleman with drugs filling you. You are wearing your shirt on your head and you look dazed. You don’t know that my heart falls into pieces upon seeing you, because I want you to know that your life is worth more than you think. Your soul is invaluable. I see you, woman yelling obscenities through your haze of substance. You don’t quite know what you’re doing. You are a daughter and perhaps a mother, a sister. You don’t know that you’re unbelievably loved.

… I see you, fellow with expensive suit and coat. Your days are filled with important things and important people, and I hope equally with important memories and joys. You have yourself to support, and maybe a family. I can’t even fathom the pressures you face daily. No matter how you prioritize the things you value, you are irrevocably loved.

… I see you, cute young couple observing people and goings-on around you. You’re whispering and sharing sweet moments, and your arms are around each other. You have found someone, for however long, who you basically adore. You should know that you are loved even more by Someone else.

… I see you, darling elderly woman, walking with determination and a cane. Your hair is beautifully white, and it is so regal. You may be hunching over these days, but you wear a crown. You have given so much of your life to other people and yet maintained your strength. I admire your courage to get yourself around this ridiculous city. You are cherished and loved.

… I see you, security guard who watches other people enjoy themselves while you work. I hope it’s not too presumptuous, but you don’t look like you enjoy your job. I hope one day you are healthy and happy. You too are loved.

… I see you, greying wife with sad or angry eyes. When I smiled at you, you only raised your eyebrows. There is much going on deep within you. You are a wonder and a gift, if only you knew. Don’t you see, you are loved.

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Is there any hope for a world like this? Oh, I do believe so. He is already here, He is waiting. He is loving.

But how will they know He loves them? 

We are all looking for home, a place we belong and can rest. God is Home, and He invites you in. He invites them in.

Shall we extend the invitation?

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