The Rotted Rug

I am overwhelmed today and yesterday and perhaps tomorrow. The city of Angeles overwhelms me. I do not always understand how or why it does. I am in my thirteenth week of L.A. Term, with only two and a half weeks left. In some ways I have made friends with the city and wish now the semester would start again. It took so long to find my footing that only now do I understand better how I fit and where God is on these dirty, gum covered streets. The hardest part is figuring out what being a follower of Christ looks like in this place. Who is my neighbor here on these streets... The lawyer in the gospel of Luke wanted to know who his neighbor was and Jesus told him the story of the good Samaritan. Who was the neighbor? The lawyer was forced to answer "The one who showed mercy toward him." And Jesus said to him, "Go and do the same". There are so many here who are broken, troubled, hopless, addicted, ragged, and lost. They are in need of mercy and compassion but I cannot give mercy to all and yet I hardly have opportunity to show mercy and love to any. In a way, it is easy to think of needy people in romantic terms. The two man drunk on the corner are happily singing songs in slurred voices and seem to be focused on finding happiness in their current state. Some just want change or sandwhich to get through the day and nothing more. They no longer look for a way out.

Still there are others. The poor and immigrant is my neighbor. They live in the apartments and buildings, holes and rooms that I would never dream of staying in. They geninuely appreciate any offer of help that would help them and their families live and eat that week. I threw away a faded dirty rug that had been sitting outside on the pourch for at least two weeks. It was rotted and dirty on one side and I finally delicately picked it up and threw it away in my garbage can. Three hours later I went to thow the kitchen garbage out and the rug was gone... It is one thing to think of your neighbor as a theoretical needy individual that you may run into someday. It is quite another to realize that someone nearby is eeking by and surviving day by day, week by week. Someone that would notice that either was watching what I threw away and scampered to claim it for themeselves or someone that made a regular stop to sift through my garbage can for items that they could use. All I know is that someone nearby is probably handwashing the dried faded green, dirty, partially-rotted rug to put on their floor. My neighbor needed my rotted rug...