Justice and Love

{*I thought we were offering a new e-book, Faithfully Frugal, today, but we had a glitch with Amazon last night, so we’ll get the kinks out and offer it to you next week! Thanks for your patience. My thoughts are somewhere else today anyway, so it works out …}

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I thought the DMV was the worst place on earth.

I was wrong. The DHS office is.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon at DHS, at The Father’s Heart, driving through a couple Section 8 housing facilities, and in my kitchen helping my new friend from Bus Stop 32.

There are no quick fixes. (You knew that already.)

I am the first to admit being completely clueless about the ins and outs of addiction, child abuse, mental illness, poverty–the intricate web that keeps so may bound and unable to break free. No expert here. I’m just a girl whose desperate prayer the last few weeks has been, Show me how to love. After six days of praying this prayer God dumped Julie (not her real name) on my doorstep and I’ve been awkwardly trying to love and help her, completely over my skis, trying to pretend like I’m not terrified by the dark world she brings to my attention.

So while I don’t exactly have a carefully crafted treatise on the-best-way-to-help-people-with-huge-stinkin’-problems, one thing has stood out to me through our interactions with the judge, DHS workers, and other folks along the way:

Justice and love.

There are a lot of people out there working for justice. There are great programs in place. There are excellent treatment facilities. But here’s what there isn’t a lot of:

Love.

My goal yesterday, my only goal, was to convince Julie of God’s love for her and my love for her. That’s it. I know she’s pretty much a mess. I know she’s still dishonest about some things. But today I watched the eyes of people as they interacted with her. Just watched. Here’s what I saw:

Judgment. Suspicion. Guardedness. Skepticism.

All of this is well-deserved. I get that.

But then I took her into The Father’s Heart, a street-ministry near our home that feeds 350-500 people every week, provides job training, a safe house, shelter, computer resources … and love. 

The Father’s love.

We walked into the building at 3:34. They close at 3:30pm, but I was desperate to get her there, so she could just see what it was, so I tried the door anyway. They readily welcomed us in and embraced us with smiles and open arms, even though they’d already had a long day serving dozens of homeless folks. They loaded Julie up with food and toiletries, and walked her through the facility, letting her know she was welcome anytime.

But the greatest thing they offered her was the look in their eyes.

They loved her. 

Even though she went outside and smoked while they were preparing her foodbox. Even though they’d seen thousands of Julies walk through their door. They had every right to claim Compassion-Fatigue. Every right to give the same judgment, suspicion, guardedness, and skepticism that Julie was used to receiving from the rest of the world. Of course they knew her kind.

But the way they looked at her was completely different. They looked at her with eyes of love.

Here’s the bottom line: People can tell in our eyes whether we love them or not. We can go through the motions, do the right things, say the right things, but only love changes people. Love looks at people with eyes of hope. Love accepts them. Yes, love makes tough choices. But love always looks to the good end and believes the best.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
—1 Corinthians 13:7

To give people hope, to inspire people to faith, we must first give people love.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

–1 Corinthians 13:13

Learning to love, along with you. Who can you love–not try to “fix”– this weekend? Thanks for reading.