Penny

The twilight had nearly passed when the streets began morphing into overnight bunkhouses. The streets of downtown Portland, Oregon looked nothing like a few hours previous. People who had found themselves homeless for the evening crept subtly into position, vying for prime location in the weather protected nooks of otherwise elite business storefronts - just enough room for a sleeping bag, meager possessions, and a pet of companion and protection.

About the time I'd noticed the population was transforming into a different demographic, my gaze was drawn toward a young woman settled curbside for the evening. She sat hunched over, hair in her face, drawing and writing in a journal. I shimmied my toes up as close to her blanket as I could get without invading her territory. Every possession so exposed. As I crouched down to speak with her I quickly noticed she didn't lift her head when she spoke back. "Penny. My name is Penny," she said in a curt, raspy, I've lived a hard street life, voice. 

There was something different about Penny, and if you asked me to tell you what it was I couldn't. Maybe it was that she was raised with two loving parents. Or the realization that she hadn't always lived on the streets. Maybe it was sympathy for her story of being left an orphan in her late teens and early twenties by a mother whom she lost to cancer with only four months to prepare from diagnosis to burial. Then a father who lost his mind once her mother, his lifelong bride, passed away. When she finally trusted me enough to look up at me it was but only for a brief moment. The next time a bit longer, and even longer the time after that. Maybe it was the light that hadn't completely left her beautiful, exotic blue eyes that made her different than any other person I'd had the privilege to minister to that evening. 

The message of hope had somehow escaped Penny, at least that's what she voiced. Contrary to how she viewed hope for herself, she wanted desperately to offer our team a message of encouragement. "Stay in school, listen to your parents, and love deeply because the two most important things in this life you can't get back - time and relationships." Penny was wise. I liked Penny. Truth is I held back tears of sorrow for the season of life Penny was experiencing. I can estimate by her comments and body language that people hadn't been kind to her. She looked as though she had seen the receiving side of cruel hands striking her beautiful face.

I knew the time had come to walk away from Penny. How do you do that in such a vulnerable situation while conveying Jesus' love to someone you feel so much compassion for?  Moments before we were strangers. I stood up and crouched down at least three times before I left her with these parting words, "Penny, I am so blessed to have met you. Thank you for talking with me. I want you to know that you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. I see you writing in your journal; keep writing." Before we walked away we offered her what we had: coffee, a clean pair of socks, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Is that really all we had? No. That's just the lie we told ourselves as a salve to sooth the guilt in our souls so we could walk away without falling apart. The truth is we had much more than Penny, and we all knew it. We rode back in a bus to a hotel and slept in a real bed with clean sheets after taking hot showers. That explains why Penny told us, "People from the inside have a different smell. I can always tell where people come from because of their smell."

As I lay my head down on that soft, fluffy pillow with a crisp, clean pillowcase that evening I realized Penny was the one with more. Penny wasn't rushed in life. She didn't have phone notifications from her calendar that constantly chimed demands into her life. Penny was protected by a community of people who had her back (Several other homeless people came to check on her and make sure she was okay in the short time we were able to spend with her). She had a clearer mind of the simpler things in life. Penny had much to give. Penny had much.

Walking away from Penny was tough. I felt helpless; like no minute morsel I could give would truly make a difference or satisfy. Then, the Lord reminded me,"Whoever oppresses a poor man insults his Maker, but he who is generous to the needy honors him" (Proverbs 14:31). He too walked on this earth homeless, you know? In fact, concerning this He proclaimed, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Matthew 8:20), yet He was the richest man to have ever walked the face of this earth. 

He truly has walked the road of every human, even the homeless. Won't you join me in thanking Him today for ALL we have been given? Also, in praying we can simplify the demands of our life constantly drowning out His voice. May we realize, like Penny, we cannot get back two of the greatest gifts from Papa, time and relationships.