The other day a homeless friend made this request: “Give me some words of encouragement, like you would give to a son.” That sent my mind (and heart) into pondering. What could I say? God is with you. You are loved. I take that for granted. But what meaning would it have for him? Maybe that doesn’t matter. I believe it.
My thoughts became more practical. Don’t ever give up. Take care of yourself. Are those words of encouragement? I happen to know that he is down on the world. Could I say, don’t focus on what is wrong with everyone else. Focus on something that is good. You have a good heart.
Words of encouragement are hard. The fact is, that if someone is on a self destructive path…I want to say, stop! And immediately I wonder where the will comes from to embrace self care and seek help.
I am well aware of the importance of living in the now. Being mindful, noticing, slowing down, opening one’s heart and mind to what is. Along side of the value of the NOW is the reality of the FUTURE. Look ahead. Ask how the way you are living now impacts you for the future and not only you, but those around you. And don’t even try to forget the PAST but learn to give gratitude for what was good and forgive all that wasn’t and accept all the grey areas in between where mixed blessings met.
If you have read this far, you can probably tell that I have no clear words of encouragement for my homeless friend, spoken as if he were my son. I think if I leave a note for him it will say, “Be well, my son. Your life matters!” And I am thinking how much each of our lives matters and how much the lives of my birth sons matters to me. Enough to jump out of a burning building with them in my arms to save their lives as a mother did this week. Or enough to know that since they came into my life, they are always in my heart and I love them with all I am, with deepest gratitude, not generically, but each for who they are. Enough to know that words fail.
My homeless friend has been homeless for as long as I have known him. He is a survivor. And he has not, so far, chosen any other life. Maybe he can’t. So, now I say, “Your life matters! Be a survivor! And, I say, “In God’s name, you are my son. God be with you. God loves you!”
Easy for me to say, of course. Maybe I could just say that what I want for you is health and well being and peace. You have to for whatever reason. say, I love you. Love yourself. Don’t be weighed down by health concerns. fear of let anything get in the way of your ability to be