FEEDING THE HUNGRY

You see them roaming the streets, some pushing shopping carts and some in wheelchairs, even the motorized variety. Some are digging through garbage bins. Some are lying on park benches or under overpasses bundled in dirty, unkempt bedding. Some stand on street corners while others sit at the end of major interstate off-ramps. Some walk up in parking lots, fast food drive-thrus or gas stations and ask if you can spare a dime or buy a burger. These are the male and female members of society, young and old alike, who have no place to call their own; God’s unforgotten misfits commonly known as homeless.

Never found it comfortable to render aid especially when requested. My cynical side felt they should spend their time looking for a job instead of sponging off those good-natured souls who would readily oblige. There was no doubt the money would be used for sustenance—in 100 proof liquid form to drink or in a form to inject, snort, or smoke. Why help them feed their habit. Not exactly the best Christian attitude to have but it’s a hard thing to overcome and even the times I helped out those few, that wonderful feeling a person should receive didn’t happen.

I admire those who choose to become involved in homeless ministries, working in shelters, teaching the Word, and volunteering in soup kitchens, especially during holiday times. Difficult breed to be around—filthy appearance, a possible drug addict, alcoholic, schizophrenic, or mentally unbalanced with no ability to pay for necessary medications.

Long Beach started a sack lunch ministry. The bags are filled with nonperishable items such as packaged cookies, crackers, and juices for members to take and have available when approached by someone in need. It relieves the anxiety of giving money. Have a problem with the can of Vienna sausages also inside the sacks because the lid is a viable weapon; however, Steve opined that anything could be grabbed and used, a broken plastic fork for example. Can’t argue with that logic. The church also invested in Bibles to hand out.

I took a sack lunch and Bible and left it in the car for almost two weeks. Thursday afternoon a man with a cardboard sign reading, “Need Help” was sitting on the I-405 off-ramp at the Long Beach Boulevard exit. I rolled down the window and handed him the lunch and Bible. Surprisingly, quite a young, good looking man. He seemed somewhat shocked, said “Thank you” and wished me a good day. I echoed the sentiment; however, words were unnecessary as the eyes and exchanged smiles said it all. What a great feeling as I drove away!

If I were to stop and really analyze these types of situations, this man could easily have been Jonathan many times over if my son didn’t have family members who were willing to assist with his necessities of life. Should stop being so hard nosed and reconsider each situation that crosses my path.

THE WALLS ARE TOO THIN WHEN…

I’ve seen the scenario numerous times on television sitcoms. Big jokes that produce big laughs.

I’ve lived in my not so humble abode for over two years and recently decided to remain for another three years, or in other words, until I turn 55 and can move into an apartment complex exclusively rented to those 55 and over. Don’t really mind the commute and even with the higher gas prices will still save a considerable amount living in a cheaper apartment that includes all utilities and cable.

Knew the walls were thin when I had to put up with the noisy neighbors who at times were ten in number. It was a red-letter day when they were evicted last summer and a soon-to-be divorced older man (oops, he’s my age) moved in. It’s been relatively quiet except when his almost 20-year younger girlfriend is there who now seems to be a constant fixture. Although not often, I’ve been kept awake or awakened from a peaceful slumber by their domestic disputes. She’s like a screaming banshee. But, hey, is it all that surprising considering the age difference? Sorry…

Last night while watching a taped episode of Lost, heard some strange noises coming from next door; a female voice oohing and aahing, and an “Oh, Mark” in the mix. Must have been a wham, bam, and thank you ma’am moment because it didn’t last too long. Know the layout of that apartment so I definitely could say, “Please take it to the bedroom.” Yep, you know the walls are too thin when you hear your neighbors in the throws of passion.

Think I prefer the screaming.

DREGS OF SOCIETY

“The wrong things our sinful self does are clear: being sexually unfaithful, not being pure, doing sexual sins…I warn you now like I warned you before: The people who do these things will not be in God’s kingdom.” (Galatians 5:19-21, English Version for the Deaf)

In one of my criminology classes my professor and former FBI agent, Dr. Wirth, discussed the ramifications of committing crimes in certain overseas countries. For example, in Turkey if you were convicted of stealing, a hand was severed. The punishment would seem to fit the crime but not here in the states; it would step on our civil liberties. Imagine the punishment for sexual predators, to me a punishment so befitting the crime (maybe not even strong enough).

A coworker told me about a website developed by John Walsh of America’s Most Wanted. Plug in your address and a registered offender map pops up of the surrounding area with a color-coded legend to follow. Click on one of the squares to see offender information including name, address, photo, description, and conviction(s). You can zoom in to see a more detailed map.

I plugged in my address…WOW…There are two rapists down the street, one child molester across the street, and a 73-year-old man convicted of “288(a) lewd or lascivious acts with child under 14 years” who lives one floor above my parents in the retirement facility next door to the church. Mom’s ears perked up when I told her the news, but now…have a feeling she would rather not know this tidbit of info about her neighbor.

Check it out. Not only will you be fascinated, you might just get the surprise of your life.


wwwFamilyWatchDogus

NOW I’VE SEEN IT ALL

Driving south down the 405 interstate. Typical heavy morning traffic with much of the congestion attributed to the ever increasing presence of moving vans, semis, tractor trailers, and those pokey commuters in their passenger vehicles who never seem to find their way into the slow moving lanes.

Over the past 3-1/2 months I’ve used commuting as one of many learning tools for improving my patience. For the most part it has been successful but at times, especially in a traffic jam, there is a need to remind myself to remain calm.

Thursday morning one particular vehicle was tying up a seemingly free flowing commute. A Mustang-type vehicle generally seen zipping down any roadway, silver in color with a forest green roof, was crawling down the middle lane.

A touch of annoyance emerged. Figured she (yes, I said “she”) must be talking on her cell phone or doing her makeup; have seen that done many a time. I changed lanes, passed this vehicle and looked to the right. The driver was a female (sorry ladies) with long blonde hair, looking downward and actually reading. Should I give her the benefit of the doubt? Maybe she was studying for a test...

No wonder there is so many accidents.

QUOTE THE RAVEN, “NEVERMORE”

If I had written this last week, it might have been titled, “Men Are Jerks,” but would not want to offend those I care about who don’t deserve to be labeled the “J” word.

After my first date in 25 years, thought I would at least hear from Ken before his return to Vegas. Nope, and nothing for an entire week. Assumed the worst, felt as if I was left hanging, and I was not about to go away quietly. Sent an e-mail expressing my confusion and my feelings (and by now you know how blunt and candid I can be). Mr. V replied with the same candor. Doubt many men would have responded with such class and openness, at least not the ones I know. Without going into specifics, we have an understanding and there is still a possibility; but no matter what develops, we’ll always be friends.

Sunday morning Geron talked about distractions. After much reflection, I decided that my participation in this concept of internet dating has become more than a consuming affair and have disregarded other areas of importance. E-Harmony automatically renews your subscription (that shouldn’t have come as a surprise), so after I play out the commercial realtor from Newport Beach and the pharmacist from Lakewood, plan to call it quits with this cyberspace pursuit of the heart and just let come what may.

It’s been a frustrating and emotional roller coaster ride, and for a sensitive person who tends to wear her heart on her sleeve and gets overwhelmed when it gets flicked off like a piece of lint, well… Not that I necessarily want to remarry, but maybe Paul had it right: “To the unmarried and the widows I say it is well for them to remain unmarried as I am.” (I Corinthians 7:8, NRSV) Maybe he should have mentioned something about the dating scene.

Internet dating has been successful, and a great guy did enter my life, and as of this morning, date numero dos has been scheduled with Mr. V for this coming week, but no more blogs about matters of the heart. However, if something of earth shattering proportion develops, you, my loyal subjects, will be one of the first to know.