I don't know about you, but I almost always feel a twinge of guilt when I walk past a homeless person. Something in me says, "That's a human, made in the image of God, that you're walking past right now who appears to need help." Some Many of them are scammers, but many aren't; the trouble is trying to discern between the two. I got a phone call from a friend on Monday, just shortly before I had to take my children to school. It seems he had let a stranger spend the night with him and needed someone else to be with this stranger before he could be taken back home to North Dakota. I hesitated thinking about how inconvenient this would be, how I couldn't do all that I wanted to do that day because I was adult-sitting some stranger. And there was a bit of fear. "Look, he's a Vietnam vet, he was tortured by the VC, he's got no teeth. He's an old man; if he overpowers you, you're some kind of pussy....
A humble blog of tragic proportions