• Share

  Tweet

• how it works
• 

---

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Lock and Key (08/21/14)

---

• TITLE: No More a Stranger | Previous Challenge Entry
  By Marlene Bonney
  08/27/14
• 
  
  
    LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
    SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
    ADD TO MY FAVORITES

---

I often wonder when it was that I began to insulate my heart against all the troubles of this world. Was it as a young child—a teenager—a young adult? When did I become so callous of the suffering of anyone beyond my own circle of family and close friends—when did my love become reserved just for them?

Like a horse in blinders, I shut out people around me, passing them by like the Levite and Pharisee ignored the beaten man at the side of the road. I have become a spectator to the television coverage of victims of tragedies, unconsciously refusing to open that locked door of my compassion. Why?--because it is less painful this way--because it is easier not to feel helpless and hopeless in the midst of their suffering--because I have become inoculated against the disease of the homeless and needy and the strangers who pass by me.

It has happened over time, I suppose, this refusal to actively care for my neighbor—like a hippopotamus’ inches of thick skin, I have built layers over my heart for protection against making others’ pain my own.

Jesus did the opposite. Jesus was always reaching out, especially to the outcasts, the neglected, the needy of our society. It was not a duty to him, for, unlike the religious leaders of His day, He humbly considered these miscreants worthy of His love, his compassion, and His attention. And He is the only One who can unlock the doors of my heart that I have bolted.

To this end I pray—and watch.

There are neighbors across the street who I have only acknowledged with a polite nod or wave of a hand. Why is it that so many times, it takes a crisis or natural disaster to bring people to a sense of equality with the person standing right next to them?

There are homeless people walking close by, some of whom ask me for a hand-out. I argue with my better self when approached by probable scam artists preying on my sympathy as a fellow human being, skeptical of their stories of need:

“My baby needs diapers;” “I need a bus ticket to get to my brother’s funeral;” “I need money for gas to get to my ill father’s beside;” “I need to fill a prescription.”

An obviously mentally ill stranger mumbles to himself as he shuffles along his wandering path through our downtown streets while I enter the Post Office; so busy with my mundane objectives that I ignore him. A homeless person is pushing a grocery cart across the local railroad tracks, dressed in layers of clothing even though it is a hot summer day and I drive by, oblivious. A man stands at a freeway exit shoulder holding a sign, “I will work of a meal,” and I avert my eyes to avoid his.

I tell myself it is for self-preservation that I ignore these people, which is probably, shamefully accurate—a self-centered selfishness that refuses to take on the risk of discomfort, rejection, or hands-on involvement in these situations.

Jesus taught us to be a servant; if He, by His own example—Who is the highest royalty that was, is, or ever will be—sacrificed His own involvement and comfort and opened Himself up to rejections and pain, how can I do less? I must constantly remind myself that God loves this or that one as much as He loves me, so how dare I do less; and that “there, but for the grace of God, go I.”

Of course, Jesus could see into the hearts of His people and I can only see outward appearances. But does that cancel out my responsibility to a fellow human being who is so obviously in need? And what about those fringe acquaintances I pass by because they appear to be fine; but in reality, are covering up a broken heart, an upcoming divorce, a death of a loved one, an aching heart over their grown children’s choices, an abusive spouse, a lost job, or countless other problems?

“Oh, Father in heaven, I relinquish the keys to those locked doors of my heart to You. Please grant me the courage to reach out to the ones around me who are hurting. Give me the wisdom to balance careless assistance versus enabling in some cases; and discernment to see beyond the outward appearances of my fellow man.”

---

---

---

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.

---

Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.

---