Holding the Tension: befriending Ed

In my years among the chronically homeless, I quickly learned that it's not wise to befriend everyone, however, there are certain encounters with individuals in which you just know you're being invited into more than the standard surface smiles and small talk. 

For my friends Justin and Mandy, Ed represents that deeper invitation. They fell hard for this man. Since their first interaction they've shared many meals along with deep and meaningful conversations that translate into a bond that is as intimate as family.

About a month ago, Ed went into the hospital with an infection in his leg, shortly thereafter he caught pnemonia and then continued a downward spiral to the point which he'll likely pass through the thin veil at any moment now.

With her permission, I'm compelled to share the following words from an email Mandy sent me a couple days ago. The following account is what it's like to take up the invitation to see God in the depths of disturbance and accept the sacred offering to hold that which doesn't make sense. 

Ed is dying.  Everyday we visit.  We sit.  We cry.  We are sad. We are angry. We are completely disoriented. 

Angry that a nurse acts like this is my first time to visit.  Angry that they don't know how many hours I've sat by that bed.  Angry that Ed is alone.  Angry that Ed doesn't have any more words or any more stories. Angry that a daughter miles away doesn't understand what she is losing.  Angry that Ed gave up that right years before.  Anger runs through me...

and I'm completely disoriented.  

I sit by his bed and I want to curl up beside him.  I want to lay next to him so he can feel my love flow through him.  I want to hold his hand and not let go.  I have no words to express to him or anyone else how I feel.  And again... I am completely disoriented.  

Why? Why am I so sad?  Why am I so angry? Why am I weeping over a man I barely know? Why does this man speak so deeply to my soul? Why does his life simply scream for justice?

What is justice? Is it this.... an unknown man laying in a hospital dying?  Is this what an unemployed, alcoholic, who begs for money to go buy liquor deserves? Maybe it's what we all deserve? 

This is all I know...  I am empty, sinful, hopeless, prideful, vain, controlling, unfaithful, ungrateful, and completely undeserving of everything I have.  Ed knew that about me.  His face reflected all my shadows.  In him I saw myself.... I see myself.  Yet Ed reflected all of God's glory.  He saw into shadows and spoke truth.  Ed prayed over children. He held hands like it was the last time he would hold them. He showed unbelievable gratitude. He prayed over grown men. He affirmed the beauty in people. He wept.  

Knowing Ed has changed my life.  I'm not quite ready for a life without his presence, yet I'm so ready for him to finally be free from all his shadows.  

This is the sound of one who has taken the risk to befriend the poor. There is no manual to adaquately prep one for the contradictions, the irony, the abusurdity of it all. You begin to feel ashamed for spending time and falling in love with people like this. You pray messy and stupid sounding prayers. 

This is a story of what it looks like to take up the divine invitation to follow Christ into the tension. This image is Justin's hand holding on to the hand of his friend, Ed. As Ed miserably writhes in discomfort, Justin and Mandy stand, sing, pray, and stroke his hair. And while they struggle navigating the thick woods of spiritual disorientation, from my vantage point I see heaven touching earth. I see, once again, the mystery of grace which acts as water pooling up in the lowest of places. 

Comments

[SarahintheSun3]

Thank you very much for sharing this story.

[Ryan]

It's a privilege, Sarah. Thanks for engaging it.

[michelle alvarez]

beautiful. I see these men and women out there on the streets and am constantly seeking God what it looks like for me to get involved. It breaks my heart...I know they each have a story. Thank-you for sharing this.

[Ryan]

Thanks for engaging the story, Michelle. Being in a place in which our hearts are broken open seems the place where we encounter God who invites us to find the most simple ways to bless our poorest neighbors.