least of these

today was rough.

lots of ish happened that made me exhausted emotionally and physically--david was sick, josiah threw up all over me, some contractors gave us a good idea of what we need to do to fix our leaking basement, lots of loads of laundry and dirty diapers...

david said to me: babe, you've worked so hard today and done so much. tonight, when josiah goes to bed, you should just go and do something--whatever you want to do! you deserve it!

my first thought was: yes! a night out with a friend to eat and drink and be merry after working super hard all day! this will be so fun!

but i suddenly felt very lonely.

there still arent many people in san antonio that i feel i know all that well--well enough to call up on a tuesday night for a little food and wine and laughter...

my best friend, dirty, and i talked for awhile and she was sympathetic and sweetly prayed for me as i wept for feeling so lonely.

i trudged into whole foods and dropped $15 on pizza, mississippi mud (large, cheap beer) and a chococlate bar, then headed to walgreens to check out the movies at the redbox.

near the redbox was a black man in a wheelchair. in his lap were some bags from walgreens and a book, a blanket over his legs. he called out to me, asking me how i was. i gave the typical answer: "i'm doin' alright, how are you?" even though my face was still tight from having just been crying.

his reply to my "how are you?" was, at first, simply: "homeless." i looked up from the redbox. "thank you so much for asking," he went on.

we talked for awhile, i shook his hand multiple times and i admitted finally that today had been a rough day and that i wasn't simply just "alright". his ministered to me and spoke Truth about Who and Whose i really am.

he is one of the first homeless people i have met who didn't obviously have mental health issues--and i've met a lot of homeless people. it broke my heart that as we talked he told of his very basic, real human needs, confiding that he hadn't been able to bathe in over a week and that he was very self-conscious about the way he smelled.

he expressed anger and sadness toward the people on the bus that treat him differently because of how he smells currently and he called it what it is: selfishness. that they can't get out of themselves enough to even consider that he may be unable to find a place to bathe.

i didnt have any cash on me, but i wanted to give him all my christmas money.

when i got in the car, i still felt the impression of his hand in mine as we shook hands upon saying goodbye.

i haven't cried about anyone other than myself in such a long time and it felt so awful and so right.

God! provide for your child, byron!