My Own Little World; the Population Needs to Increase

Every couple of months or so, our family packs up bags of goodies, puts on our best smiles, meets up with another family, and heads down to one of the local homeless shelters to throw a birthday party for the residents of the shelter. This particular shelter houses three groups of people: long-term female residents and their children, long-term male residents, and women seeking emergency shelter. The kids love it, bouncing from table to table, handing goodie bags out to all of the children and passing out gifts to those who are celebrating a birthday this month. There's cake and balloons, and we occaisionally see familiar faces from previous parties. We aren't there every month because we go on a rotating basis, so the faces often change.

We don't know the details of their lives, except when a resident decides to become chatty and wants to share with us. We share a devotion and walk around to share small talk and ask for prayer requests.

I usually watch as my daughter bounces from table to table, talking to the other kids. As I try to approach residents, my heart pounds and my mouth becomes dry. What do I say? Will I say the right thing? Did they like their gift?

We have been doing these parties for a couple of years, and I still feel a twinge of nervousness on the days leading up to the party. A few days a head of time, we're given a list of those residents that the directors know have a birthday. We know nothing about these people, and yet, we need to find what may be the only birthday gift this person receives this year. Yikes!

Trust me when I say that I am not complaining about doing a little shopping for these people. I feel inadequate, though, for the responsibility. These people have hurts we can't see. There are situations that have brought them to the shelter that no one may ever know about. My paltry gift, slices of cake, and decorations somehow seem hollow. Occaisionally, I catch the eye of one the ladies and know what they're thinking, "What does this lady know about what we're going through?" And suddenly, I'm ashamed.


In my own little world it hardly ever rains
I’ve never gone hungry or always felt safe
I got some money in my pocket, shoes on my feet
In my own little world
Population; me

How long have I lived like this? Like the people I see on the street corners are invisible or that someone else will help them? Are the birthday parties really for the residents, or is it just so I can check off a box and feel like I'm helping someone? Am I really thinking of the children there, or am I commending myself for the lessons I think my children may be learning?

What these people, very REAL people, need is the love of Christ, and the hands of the church reaching to them. This particular shelter, along with the shelter that shares the block with them, are being the true hands and feet of Christ. I know the residents may not want to share their personal details, but what am I truly sharing with them?

What if there’s a bigger picture
what if I’m missing out?
What if there’s a greater purpose
I could be living right now
outside my own little world?

The next time we go, I'm not going hide behind the gifts and goodie bags. I want to be real. I want to pray more than a generic prayer for them.

I want to challenge you to expand your own little world. The Raleigh Rescue Mission, the Salvation Army, your local soup kitchen, or food bank are good places to start.