The greatest compliment I’ve ever received (personally speaking) was about my home. I love that and love the reason they said it. “You’re home feels like a place people come inside and suddenly feel like everything is going to be ok.” I had never heard that before. I never realized that was a thought people mulled when going into people’s homes. I knew I wanted to feel that way about my own home, but didn’t realize I wanted other people to feel that way about it too. I do now. For me her compliment was one for the books of my personal life; be a home for someone and create “I feel like everything is going to be ok.” In other words, she felt my home was a refuge. Okay, spoiler alert! I’m sure if her family came by in the morning before school and work it’d be different. She wouldn’t likely say “refuge” compliments when she noted clanking dishes being put in the sink full of milky cereal, family hallway calling “where’s my phone!” with shoes in hand instead of on feet, and bills plunked in the front seat with “where’s the money!” yelled in mind. But I leave that teensy weensy reality caveat out of my head and just dearly remember her compliment as their family dropped off some items one weekday evening. I didn’t even know them that well, but I now know the memory very well. It’s not often someone leaves a thoughtful remark in another’s heart. It’s very often someone leaves a reckless remark in another’s mind. Can our life be a refuge? Can our life be a home no matter where we are?
Quite some time ago, we were walking around Union Square in San Francisco, California during the holidays when I noted a homeless man huddled up in the cold. His bicycle of bags and belongings was sitting next to him and he was eating a half eaten sandwich he’d found in the trash nearby. He had gray holey mittens and very dirty looking pants ripped off at the calf exposing two different colored dirty socks. He didn’t just look homeless. He looked like he felt homeless. I’ve seen homeless people countless times, but for some reason, this guy looked rotted to me instead of just a rambler. He looked like life was awful and had been for awhile. My heart went out to him and I asked my family to hand me one of the fresh San Francisco Boudine bread loaves we’d just bought and then wait there for me. I took the warm loaf and walked over to the man. “Would you like a loaf of fresh bread sir?” I thought it was a no-brainer question, but I was wrong and very surprised. “No,” he answered. I squatted down and asked “are you sure, I’d really love for you to have this warm loaf of bread to eat.” He continued to look down and stuck to his answer, “no.” I wanted to leave the bread on the ground next to him so he wouldn’t have to reach out for it in shame, but I also wanted to respect his wishes. Homeless or not, he was a person with wishes. Admittedly I didn’t want to make a scene out of him or risk him making a scene of my well being since he’d already said no twice. There was nothing more I could do but to stand up and walk away.
I thought of him the rest of the evening wondering why he’d said no in a time of starvation; starvation for love and food. I wondered what his refuge needs were if a simple loaf of bread couldn’t help even a little. Perhaps I was right. Perhaps he was more than homeless, perhaps he felt homelessness in his heart. If he said no, did he feel safer from shame. If he said yes, did he feel safer from starvation. I wish he’d felt refuge from it all even if only for 5 minutes; a refuge from shame, a refuge from hunger, and a refuge from feeling pain of safety burdens. I wish I could have been a refuge to him, yet it seemed the shame won out and starvation prevailed because of it. Later that evening as I was mulling him over in my mind, I decided I could still be a refuge to him. I may not be able to be an acting refuge for him, but I could be a reacting refuge for him. I could talk to Christ and let Christ know there was a lamb stuck in a thicket at Union Square who needed to be restored to the refuge. I did just that all the way home. I hoped the homeless man would soon feel a “home” of his own with Christ planting some angels in his path and some purpose in his soul.
When one way of being a refuge fails, I believe our life can still be a home for someone in need. I believe our life can be a home of prayer. I believe our life can be a home of encouragement and effort because even if someone’s shame says an outward no, their heart is saying an inward yes. Yes I feel like someone cares. Yes I feel like someone notices. Yes I feel like someone, period. I’m a person in need of a refuge. I’m a person needing to be a refuge. I don’t always have energy or emotion for either one. Sometimes I’ve got lots of it. I’m guessing you might be in the same boat. It’s part of living and contributing and feeling and it’s part of getting tired at times. We’re all homeless in one way or another and we’re all strong in one way or another. It’s what makes us created. It’s what will make us creations for each other. There’s so much we can do in a world falling to worry and weary. I believe we can set up homes for each other; homes of prayer, homes of worthiness, homes devoid of hate and resistance as the first reaction. There’s a lot of life in someones lifetime, but there’s not a lot of home and refuge. And let’s face it, most of us are just trying to do our own lives and having energy to be a “home” for someone else is not always available in our enthusiasm cup. It’s tough and it’s human. Satan uses that because he’s a broken brutal being. The Shepherd knows he’s using it and he’s dealing with it in ways we couldn’t begin to. It’s also why he’s watching over us so earnestly and so lovingly and so very constantly. It’s why he’s hoping we’ll choose Him for our intimate home so we won’t starve of strength and others won’t starve of encouragement. We’ll all have enough of both within His very power and within His vast refuge. He loves us. He loves us so much.
I say this in a lot of my blogs. Someday very soon we’ll be going home. God is flexing heaven’s door with legions of angels and a Son that’s gripping the reins of resurrection day. We’ll be going home soon. Until then, the Son is very much the Shepherd here and very much a home to live within. Let me give you a “one for the books” compliment. Everything is going to be okay.
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Psalm 46:1
“In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.” Ephesians 6:18
Lamb Lines 