Jesus at the Bus Stop

There's a woman sitting out at the bus stop, and she's been there for more than 24 hours. Sometimes sleeping, sometimes walking, but always there, at the bus stop. And it's cold and rainy today. But can we see the stranger and invite her in? Is there room in our home where 4 poeple are already dwelling, with more soon to come tomorrow night and through the weekend?

I've been dwelling on it all day.

Then I found this a few moments ago....

"In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all these people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness...I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate..." [from the Diaries of Thomas Merton]

Last week, while visiting Duke, I think this happened to me... I think I awoke from a dream of separateness. I walked around with tears at the edge of my eyelids all week, wanting to burst out in smile, maybe even take someone aside and stare through their eyes and find the beauty. Although almost everyone who passed me was cold and disconnected, as we seem to be so accustomed to portraying ourselves, I felt overcome, like somehow my soul was seeing through them, to something that I don't recognize with my human eyes, but Christ in me certainly did recognize it. It's still happening, even today, this overwhelming awakeness...

I hope I never fall back asleep. Keep waking...

Underneath the surface of it all
is the aching for the trumpet call
when we cannot feel the weight of all the we have sown...
[when will He shine light on all that hides?]
(a. pates, m. clark)