Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Praying for Open Eyes

My friend Esther is hosting a Synchroblog about  "The Spirit of the Poor"   along with her friend Newell Hendricks .   This is how Esther explains it: "We are linking hands and words today in what we’re calling a community development project…at the intersection of economic justice, lifestyle change, and spiritual redemption."

Of course this covers a variety of issues, some of which I do not have much knowledge. In our own way, we have been trying to make some lifestyle changes such as growing some of our own food, having dairy goats for milk, and cooking from scratch, to name a few. In other words, we want to learn to be producers rather than always being consumers.

We also need hearts that are open to the needs of others, even those with whom we may not share the same lifestyle beliefs or choices, people we don't even know but might cross our paths, or people who are homeless.  Surely there are ways we can learn to help. I pray that God will help me see ways that I can help.

On an earlier post I shared a poem about a homeless woman who was helped.  Since that time I have worked on it adding some stanzas and changing some words which I think has made it better. It was suggested that I make an illustrated children's book out of it, and I added lines that would include a child's viewpoint.  I believe that the poem fits in well with this idea of "Spirit of the Poor."

A Solitary Figure

With nightfall swiftly approaching,
the air felt crisp and cold.
A solitary figure was wandering,
so frail, so tired, so old.

It fluttered in the blowing wind
her threadbare cloak of blue,
 threatening now to come unpinned.
Oh what was she to do?

This poor dear homeless vagabond
without a friend in sight,
had hopes that someone would respond
if she called out tonight.

How did she end up in this place
of sorrow and of pain?
Did God somehow run out of grace?
Was all her hope in vain?

She wished some soul would come along
to see her dire need,
and take her where she could belong,
a loving home indeed.

My dad and I walked hand in hand
and almost passed her by,
but saw that she could barely stand,
 and I began to cry.

Oh, Daddy can we help this one?
We need to give her aid.
Why is she out here all alone?
She seems to be afraid.

She stumbled now so suddenly
her legs almost gave way.
But Daddy's arms so lovingly
reached out to help her stay.

Dear mother, why are you alone
on this cold winter night?
Our loving family back at home
will aid you in your plight.

She gratefully gave her assent,
and leaned into his chest.
 He lifted her with the intent
to take her home to rest.

How did that woman now rejoice
to feel our special love!
We cared for her, she found a voice
to thank the Lord above.

 She will live out her final days
in comfort and in peace,
As in our loving home she stays,
where she has found release.

Oh God, please open up our eyes
to those who are in need.
Give grace that we may now arise,
and share with those who plead.

Spirit of the Poor

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