untitled.

i cannot fathom...the difference between my life and theirs. i cannot fathom what it takes to live like they do...on the streets...in the cold, night after night. i cannot fathom.
they cannot fathom...Your love. God, how do we show them? how will they see You?

twenty minutes talking to a boy about acid trips. forty holding a sleeping baby while her mother anxiously awaited a smoke break. sixty laughing over home-made, biscuit tasting, butter filled, chocolate chip cookies. hours more living a world inside four thin walls that keep out much less than i wish them to. life in the thin confines of a home for the homeless...but this home only lasts eight hours.

where are they going to go at eleven pm? what are they going to do, my God? its freezing...so freaking cold. what keeps them warm at night? alcohol? heroin? meth? their only source of heat is in things so unworthy of their time and energy. its all they know. its all they want to know. because for a little while, it is freedom.

freedom in the shape of a needle, a pill, a joint. but when they wake up tomorrow, where are they? right back to where they started...alone, poor, worthless? do they know how worthy they are? God, show me how to tell them. they don't know of Your love. they haven't seen Your face.

freedom comes only in Your arms...
and this freedom? this freedom, they cannot fathom.
please God, show them.