Today I was waiting outside the tube station early in the morning before it opened and a woman came up to me
She said that she was not homeless and that her mate had beat her up and all she needed was a ticket to go home
She was half crying but just kept repeating herself
She said she would give us an address and phone number if we didn't believe her and she could pay us back if that's what we wanted
All I had was a 2 pence in my pocket. I told her that but she didn't want it.
She eventually left us but she has been on my mind all day
I pray that if her story really was true that she would get help but then I found my self rationalizing every thing.
Why didn't she call the police? Why doesn't she ask to use a phone to call someone? Why wouldn't she take my 2 pence? Why did she keep repeating herself? Why did she start out by saying she was not homeless? How did she get the scare on her nose? Why is she on the street if she is homeless? Are there any homeless shelters in London? Why not ask for food?
The thing is no one believed her.
What if we were to take her on her offer and phone the person she claimed as her proof? Is it because we didn't want to seem like we didn't believe her (all though we didn't) but we just didn't want to out right call her a liar?
What if something like that were to happen to me like that? Maybe I would show some ID, tell them my name, tell them where I am from, my story. But before any of that I would like to think I would go to the police. Before that, go to a friend, go to a church and ask for help.
What's her story? I want to know. Who is she? How did she get there?
Beggars have always been something that I never really know what to do about them.
What about the little kids that come up to you? They are so sad looking. They haven't showered for a long time, they wear the same clothes every day. Where are their parents? Where are their fathers?
Some tell me that their fathers are at home not doing anything while the women and children are on the streets.
It would bother me though when you would give them food and then they keep asking for money. If you gave them money they would ask for more. And they would by pass the locals and come straight for the foreigners. If you are really in need won't you ask any body you can for help?
Then in America, well what about them?
One of my friends from college has a real heart for the homeless and she works with them day in and day out. Maybe I should talk to her about this subject as it deals with America.
They all aren't "bums". Some people have just had a rough time and really need help.
What do we do?
How do we respond?
As a follower of Jesus I long to follow Him in His example.
What did He do? He touched the untouchable, He loved those who every one hated, He ate with the lowest of the lows. He loved.
I am learning more and more that this is the bottom line: love
this is what life is about: to love God and love others
love
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Diversity
I love London
You can stand on a street corner and within 5 minutes you will have seen at least 5 different countries represented by the people passing by
The cultures are so diverse
The woman I notice more dramatically (maybe because I am one myself)
On the tube you will see one woman with a spaghetti strap top and booty shorts sitting next to a completely covered Muslim woman who shows only her eyes. The contrast is remarkably amazing to me.
The men, well there are many kinds of men and some men I saw today that wished they were woman. One man smelt better then I usually do (and wears more make up then I)
If one were to visit London it would be a shame if they were to miss Speakers Corner.
I was able to spend this afternoon at Speakers Corner listening to many people screaming and yelling...I loved it! What an energetic group of people
As I looked around at the sea of people my heart broke for some. They don't know the truth and may never have their eyes opened to it.
Some times I see so many issues in this world that my heart breaks and isn't sure where to throw it's energy into. My initial reaction is to fix every thing, make things better.
I get very passionate...about a lot of things
This is who I am...an extreme person
The underlined base of my passion is a love for people....
people are so interesting to me
You can stand on a street corner and within 5 minutes you will have seen at least 5 different countries represented by the people passing by
The cultures are so diverse
The woman I notice more dramatically (maybe because I am one myself)
On the tube you will see one woman with a spaghetti strap top and booty shorts sitting next to a completely covered Muslim woman who shows only her eyes. The contrast is remarkably amazing to me.
The men, well there are many kinds of men and some men I saw today that wished they were woman. One man smelt better then I usually do (and wears more make up then I)
If one were to visit London it would be a shame if they were to miss Speakers Corner.
I was able to spend this afternoon at Speakers Corner listening to many people screaming and yelling...I loved it! What an energetic group of people
As I looked around at the sea of people my heart broke for some. They don't know the truth and may never have their eyes opened to it.
Some times I see so many issues in this world that my heart breaks and isn't sure where to throw it's energy into. My initial reaction is to fix every thing, make things better.
I get very passionate...about a lot of things
This is who I am...an extreme person
The underlined base of my passion is a love for people....
people are so interesting to me
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Time Zones and Tourists
My body has no idea what time zone it is in.
Since traveling I have not changed time zones yet and here I am up wide awake way to early in the morning! Why body? Why?
Good thing I am now packed and my baggage is underweight!!! I had to get rid of a lot of things because when I came over to this country I had 28 Kilos...we are only suppose to have 20. Now I am down to 15! I feel very proud of myself!
Today was an interesting day where I learned something about my self (I like when this happens) I realized that I hate being a tourist! Absolutely hate being treated like one...ewww...just don't like it at all.
First off you get bombarded with men coming up to you asking if you want a taxi ride, or if you want to be taken on a tour, or if you would like a smoke.
No sir. If I wanted any help I would ask you. Please go away and stop coming up to me.
oh! And they make you pay waaay more and that bothers me!
The taxi man claimed his meter was broken so he charged over double what it should have cost. I should have never gotten in, but I was tired, hot and hungry and just wanted to be on some stable ground.
so my frustration stemmed out of me being tired...like an ugly flower...well that was the picture in my head, but maybe it was more like an ugly weed....whatever it was I had to get rid of it because it was not pretty....
When I was younger I loved dressing up like Harriet Tubman. I would put cocoa powder on my skin, and get dressed up. (She is one of my favorite woman that have ever lived) I wish that I could still get away with that now so I wouldn't look like a tourist. If I could some how disguise my self and be "one of the people".
I want to get to know the people, dive into a culture even if I am only there for a few days. Maybe I have too high of expectations or maybe I am just tired of being hassled.
I haven't been a tourist in a long time. When I visit another country I don't like to go to the "touristy" places. I want to see a true picture of the country and the people, not the show that is put on for the rest of the world.
Can't I just be a traveler passing through and not be considered a tourist?!?
At least in the last country I lived in I was a teacher, I had a title, it was given to me and I accepted it because it was true. But here I keep having the label "tourist" stuck on me and I keep throwing it off only to notice 5 other stickers on me that say the same thing! It's like the attack of labels! Like a car that has too many bumper stickers on it to really pay attention to any of them.
Yes, that is the picture I have. Me being an old, blue, well traveled car and me passing through a city to enjoy the sighs and then all of the sudden *BAM!* a man puts bumper sticker on me that says "TOURIST" then *BAM! BAM!* another person does the same thing, next thing I know I am surrounded by a huge group of men in white robes throwing bumper stickers on me that all say the same thing....
good thing I'm not dreaming or this might be a nightmare! (what a vivid picture that was in my head)
bottom line: I should get sleep
Since traveling I have not changed time zones yet and here I am up wide awake way to early in the morning! Why body? Why?
Good thing I am now packed and my baggage is underweight!!! I had to get rid of a lot of things because when I came over to this country I had 28 Kilos...we are only suppose to have 20. Now I am down to 15! I feel very proud of myself!
Today was an interesting day where I learned something about my self (I like when this happens) I realized that I hate being a tourist! Absolutely hate being treated like one...ewww...just don't like it at all.
First off you get bombarded with men coming up to you asking if you want a taxi ride, or if you want to be taken on a tour, or if you would like a smoke.
No sir. If I wanted any help I would ask you. Please go away and stop coming up to me.
oh! And they make you pay waaay more and that bothers me!
The taxi man claimed his meter was broken so he charged over double what it should have cost. I should have never gotten in, but I was tired, hot and hungry and just wanted to be on some stable ground.
so my frustration stemmed out of me being tired...like an ugly flower...well that was the picture in my head, but maybe it was more like an ugly weed....whatever it was I had to get rid of it because it was not pretty....
When I was younger I loved dressing up like Harriet Tubman. I would put cocoa powder on my skin, and get dressed up. (She is one of my favorite woman that have ever lived) I wish that I could still get away with that now so I wouldn't look like a tourist. If I could some how disguise my self and be "one of the people".
I want to get to know the people, dive into a culture even if I am only there for a few days. Maybe I have too high of expectations or maybe I am just tired of being hassled.
I haven't been a tourist in a long time. When I visit another country I don't like to go to the "touristy" places. I want to see a true picture of the country and the people, not the show that is put on for the rest of the world.
Can't I just be a traveler passing through and not be considered a tourist?!?
At least in the last country I lived in I was a teacher, I had a title, it was given to me and I accepted it because it was true. But here I keep having the label "tourist" stuck on me and I keep throwing it off only to notice 5 other stickers on me that say the same thing! It's like the attack of labels! Like a car that has too many bumper stickers on it to really pay attention to any of them.
Yes, that is the picture I have. Me being an old, blue, well traveled car and me passing through a city to enjoy the sighs and then all of the sudden *BAM!* a man puts bumper sticker on me that says "TOURIST" then *BAM! BAM!* another person does the same thing, next thing I know I am surrounded by a huge group of men in white robes throwing bumper stickers on me that all say the same thing....
good thing I'm not dreaming or this might be a nightmare! (what a vivid picture that was in my head)
bottom line: I should get sleep
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Communication
this is a very difficult skill to be mastered and become effective in
The more I travel the more I realize this
"one cannot not communicate"
we are always communicating something with words or with our bodies
I am by no means a master of communication, all though I have studied this subject in school but some people just are not good communicators.
What bothers me is when people assume that you should do what they want you to do with out them telling you what you should be doing
this is frustrating
we are not readers of minds
how in the world am I suppose to know you want me to do something a certain way and at a certain time when you never communicated that to me until you expected me to do it.
this makes no sense
this also makes me realize that I am not a master of communication and I have many areas to work on....always
so cheers to you and I as we figure out how to be better communicators
The more I travel the more I realize this
"one cannot not communicate"
we are always communicating something with words or with our bodies
I am by no means a master of communication, all though I have studied this subject in school but some people just are not good communicators.
What bothers me is when people assume that you should do what they want you to do with out them telling you what you should be doing
this is frustrating
we are not readers of minds
how in the world am I suppose to know you want me to do something a certain way and at a certain time when you never communicated that to me until you expected me to do it.
this makes no sense
this also makes me realize that I am not a master of communication and I have many areas to work on....always
so cheers to you and I as we figure out how to be better communicators
Monday, July 12, 2010
Mall cafe
I don't really like malls all that much...well maybe during Christmas I do, so energetic and pretty with decorations but even then.
But coffee shops in malls....now that's a different thing all together...
there is something about a coffee shop in the mall, a place where you can go and feel small and snuggled in the midst of the madness surrounding you.
For me prayer rooms are the same way.
They are my secure, cave like place to escape and be with the One that I love before I have to go back out into the world
He goes out there with me too....but there is something special about a prayer room
a place set a part for me and my Beloved
when no prayer room is around, and I can't go on the roof because it is 120 degrees, I go to a coffee shop, put on some good tunes and just spend some time with my Love
My Love is so kind and gentle
Even when I screw up and I have false ideas about Him, He is faithful
This past year in a foreign land has proven to be a difficult time
He stood with me the whole time, He has woed me, He held me, He laughed with me, He covered me when I was falling apart and wanted to give up
When I was a mess He called me beautiful
When I was stubborn He broke me
He is so good to me
I don't get it a lot of times...I really don't realize His love for me
I did nothing to deserve it and I still don't....He is just so good
There should be a better word, a sacred word that we could use just for Him, one word to describe Him and how awesome and wonderful He is....
As I look around at the sea of people, it breaks my heart because they don't know Him
Some have never even heard His name before, they don't know Him from Steve....
"Come taste and see how truly good He is. Satisfies the desires of all things. He is the One who saves my soul" ~Isa Couvertier
But coffee shops in malls....now that's a different thing all together...
there is something about a coffee shop in the mall, a place where you can go and feel small and snuggled in the midst of the madness surrounding you.
For me prayer rooms are the same way.
They are my secure, cave like place to escape and be with the One that I love before I have to go back out into the world
He goes out there with me too....but there is something special about a prayer room
a place set a part for me and my Beloved
when no prayer room is around, and I can't go on the roof because it is 120 degrees, I go to a coffee shop, put on some good tunes and just spend some time with my Love
My Love is so kind and gentle
Even when I screw up and I have false ideas about Him, He is faithful
This past year in a foreign land has proven to be a difficult time
He stood with me the whole time, He has woed me, He held me, He laughed with me, He covered me when I was falling apart and wanted to give up
When I was a mess He called me beautiful
When I was stubborn He broke me
He is so good to me
I don't get it a lot of times...I really don't realize His love for me
I did nothing to deserve it and I still don't....He is just so good
There should be a better word, a sacred word that we could use just for Him, one word to describe Him and how awesome and wonderful He is....
As I look around at the sea of people, it breaks my heart because they don't know Him
Some have never even heard His name before, they don't know Him from Steve....
"Come taste and see how truly good He is. Satisfies the desires of all things. He is the One who saves my soul" ~Isa Couvertier
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Purpose
The purpose of this blog is to jot down my thoughts and explore them.
Isn't that what blogs are for? I haven't really been consistent with a blog since I was in high school. During that time I had lots to write about, or maybe it was just that I found blogging helped me work through a lot during my drama filled high school years.
whatever the case, I am hoping to be better at blogging now that I am an "adult" and hopefully have more to write about then poems about how dramatic my life is.
I am a gypsy.
Well...I feel like one at least. I have never lived in one place for more then 4 years. I am always moving, always changing locations.
There is no particular reason, just that this is how my life has played out.
I enjoy it.
I enjoy traveling and meeting new people, seeing and learning about the world out side my window.
This world is not my home, but I am thankful to be able to travel all around it while I am here.
Isn't that what blogs are for? I haven't really been consistent with a blog since I was in high school. During that time I had lots to write about, or maybe it was just that I found blogging helped me work through a lot during my drama filled high school years.
whatever the case, I am hoping to be better at blogging now that I am an "adult" and hopefully have more to write about then poems about how dramatic my life is.
I am a gypsy.
Well...I feel like one at least. I have never lived in one place for more then 4 years. I am always moving, always changing locations.
There is no particular reason, just that this is how my life has played out.
I enjoy it.
I enjoy traveling and meeting new people, seeing and learning about the world out side my window.
This world is not my home, but I am thankful to be able to travel all around it while I am here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)