Why do we get so scared?

It's because we're afraid, isn't it? I mean, let's be honest really. We don't always like to experience things with which we aren't familiar.

The unknown.

It sounds beautiful when we think of exotic locations, spontaneous road trips and the end of a well-fought football game. But if we're talking about people, well now it's just much easier to not even go there, right? It's much easier to not have to worry about them. You know, those people. The ones that aren't like us. The ones that may not really understand a home or sitting down with family or having money to go shopping on a whim just because we need something new for this seasonal change.

Those people.

It makes us uncomfortable. Scared. I walk through the automatic glass doors at Wal-Mart to grab a cart for my grocery load and Mary catches my eye. She's just sitting there on the green metal bench, hoping someone might give her a second glance. You've seen her. Well, you've at least noticed her. Taking time to truly see her sitting there, to see her need, that takes effort. Time. Sacrifice and humility.

But you can't help notice.

If I stop to talk to her, my group will be waiting on me. I can't make them wait. That's rude.

If I stop to talk to her, I know she'll ask for money and she'll probably just use it to get her next fix.

If I stop to talk to her, I will actually have to acknowledge that she just may become a responsibility in my life.

No, no I can't do that. I can't make them wait. I can't give her money. I can't take that responsibility. She probably wouldn't understand or wouldn't remember anything I had to say anyway. So I quickly grab my cart, avert my eyes and hustle into the store, making a mental note to exit out the opposite side of the store upon departure.

You know you've done, thought it.

But what you don't know is that Mary does understand. She does notice.

What you don't know is that Mary lived with her elderly father until he passed away last January. Her mental illness did not provide her with much opportunity for holding down a job and there was no one else to take in a middle-aged woman with disabilities. So it was the streets for her. She busses around town as often as possible, making stops at whatever location she desires. Wal-Mart Market on Green Springs happens to be one of them. And the Chinese buffet up the way has her favorite chicken and collard greens, when she can coerce someone into buying her some that is.

What you don't know is that Mary's favorite snack is barbecue potato chips and ice cold Mountain Dew. She'll take that any day, staying careful not to consume the entire bag of chips in one setting.

What you don't know is that Mary has actually heard of God. She knows that his Son's name is Jesus and that He died on the cross. After that it gets a little fuzzy.

But if you take time to talk Mary, you can explain that Jesus died on the cross because He loves her, because He wanted to take her place. Because even though we don't always do what He tells us, He loves us anyway and wants something better for us and to live for Him.

Maybe she gets it. Maybe she doesn't. But she's heard and you can say that you know that wholeheartedly. It doesn't seem so scary anymore does it? I mean, now that you know her and all, she's not so scary. She's just a story waiting to be told. She's a heart waiting to be taught, a tummy waiting to be fed.

Why do we have make it so difficult? Yes we are commanded to take care of the least of these. We are commanded to provide for orphans and widows, to feed the hungry and take care of the poor and NOT FEAR.

We must learn that ignoring does not negate the responsibility. Just because you pretend not to notice doesn't mean the problem disappears. Take up your call. Accept that responsibility. If you dare claim Christ as your own, dare to execute His example loudly. To everyone. Even Mary.